The Last Time She Got Away
by Micky Fine
Summary: Booth thinks Brennan's on vacation but she's in Kosovo on a case that could have severe repercussions for both of them. BB
1. Assignments

Disclaimer: If I owned them I'd be writing scripts and not fanfics.

* * *

**The Last Time She Got Away **

**Ch. 1 – Assignments**

Captain Jamie Sommers' eyes combed the ground all around him and he was only peripherally aware of his partner, Captain Luke Granger. The pair had been sent out after they're troop's translator had passed on a report that a local had found something on the mountain that had scared him enough that he had refused to specify exactly what it was. The Major had sent Jamie and Luke out to investigate but had told them to not waste more than half a day on this particular wild goose chase. Luke glanced at his watch and noted that they should head back down to their jeep soon. While they had spent nearly three hours scouring the mountain as they climbed it would only take them about an hour and a half to get back down and then another hour's drive back to the camp. If they didn't encounter any goats.

Luke scanned the slope above them, looking for signs of anything that would appear unusual to a local. They'd encountered a few hikers near the base of the mountain but all signs of human life had disappeared the higher up they got. The air was still warm, but the wind had a cold edge to it, a reminder that autumn was just around the corner.

Jamie looked up for a moment to take in the harsh beauty of his surroundings. The mountain continued to rise up above him, the top immersed in a low-hanging cloud. A few wildflowers that lined what he would generously call a path were giving their last hurrah before the coming fall. Distracted by his surroundings as he continued walking, he stumbled over an uneven piece of ground and caught himself on a low-hanging branch of a nearby tree. His helmet connected lightly with the wood emitting a soft thunk that caused Luke to turn around.

"You ok?" Luke asked.

"Yeah, I'm fine. I just tripped over something," Jamie replied, standing upright again.

He turned to face the ground he had just covered and frowned when he spotted what looked like an oblong white stone sticking up out of the dark earth. Luke had spotted it as well because they both headed straight for it. Crouching down, Jamie pulled out a glove and used it to brush away the damp earth that had been loosened by the rains of the past two weeks. As he ran the glove over the hard, white, substance buried under the earth, it connected with something else that jingled in the familiar sound of metal connecting with metal. Putting down his glove, Jamie searched for the source of the sound. Luke's eyes picked up the metallic sheen first and he reached out without thinking to remove the dirt from the object with his fingers. As he wiped away the last of the dirt, he realized what the object was and his eyes widened. Looking up, his gaze connected with Jamie's and he knew they were both thinking the same thing. This was seven different kinds of bad.

* * *

Brennan was making an internal list of what she'd need to pack when a familiar voice called out to her.

"Sweetie, where have you been? I was looking for you. If you went out for coffee and didn't get me a muffin I'm going to be very upset."

"I didn't go for coffee. I had a meeting."

Angela followed Brennan into her office and watched the forensic anthropologist as she began pulling files off of various surfaces and stacking them, her actions hurried and a little flustered. Angela's antenna immediately went up.

"You had a meeting? That wasn't on your schedule before was it?"

"No, Angela, and for the last time, stop snooping in my calendar. You're never going to find anything of interest there."

"You're right about that one. And can I say that you should seriously reconsider attending that lecture on metric and comparative analysis of sexual dimorphism in the Thai femur. You're time would be much better spent with normal people. Especially on a Friday night."

"If it will make you feel better, I probably won't be going to that lecture after all."

"Really? Why? Because of this mysterious meeting?"

"Yes," Brennan said distractedly. "I should call Russ before I go and let him know I'll be gone for a while."

"You're going away?" Angela asked.

"Yes. Have you seen the plug adaptor for my laptop?" Brennan replied, crouching down behind her desk to pull open the bottom drawer.

"I may have left it in my hotel room when I was in London this summer," Angela answered, craning her neck in an attempt to maintain eye contact with her best friend. "You're trip is to Europe then?"

"I don't remember lending you my adaptor," Brennan said, her head popping back up above her desk, her left eyebrow shooting up in a questioning manner.

"I may have forgot to ask you," Angela said with a sly grin.

Brennan attempted to hide a smile at her friend's audacity and failed.

"Oh well, I shouldn't bother bringing it anyway. Electricity is rather unreliable there."

"Where exactly are you going?" Angela asked, her brow now creasing slightly in worry. Something more than Brennan's intense focus was at work here.

Brennan didn't answer the question and instead attempted to rush past Angela, headed towards her file cabinet but was impeded when her friend's hand snaked out and closed tightly around her wrist. Brennan looked at the dark-haired woman in surprise and then smiled as she was tugged towards her couch and forced to sit down.

"Bren, sweetie, you are starting to freak me out here. Where are you going?"

"I'm going to a U.N. camp near a small village in Kosovo," Brennan said quietly, her eyes more on the door than on the woman next to her. She knew Booth had a tendency to pop up unexpectedly and hear things that weren't meant for his ears and she definitely didn't want him to hear this.

"Oh," Angela said in a meaningful tone, "now I get why you're freaked. Booth is going to flip out when he hears about this."

"I am not freaked and Booth will not flip because he isn't going to hear about this."

"Bren, how on earth are you going to keep Booth from hearing about it? He finds out everything. He's the FBI."

"He's not going to find out this. Not from you, not from me, not from anyone."

Angela shot her friend an incredulous look, "Ok, fine, I'm not going to tell him but not everyone here is as discreet as I am. You should know by now that if Booth were to lean on them even slightly the lab boys would squeal loud enough for you to hear it if you were in Tibet."

"I'm not telling them. I am, in fact, under orders to reveal where I'm going to as few individuals as possible so you know, Dr. Goodman knows, and Russ will know once I call him. Dr. Goodman has already promised not to reveal anything to Booth."

"Dr. Goodman, Russ, and I," Angela listed, ticking off her fingers. "You aren't telling David?"

"He's in Chicago for three weeks for a conference. I'll just tell him I'm going out of town for a while."

Angela raised her eyebrows in answer to this response and resisted the urge to comment on the lack of trust in Brennan's relationship with her boyfriend. If it hadn't of been for the location of her friend's latest trip she knew she would have told Booth.

"Ok, sweetie, that's your own business but I'd have a contingency plan in case Booth finds out. And it really shouldn't involve me lying in front of his SUV because it's only a 50-50 chance that he won't run me over. The man is seriously motivated when it comes to you and potential danger. Speaking of which, why shouldn't I be hysterically worried that you're going alone," Angela paused to crane her head around and check the door and then continued in a low tone, "to Kosovo?"

"Because I'm staying in a military compound and I'll have military escorts everywhere I go. American military escorts," Brennan added.

A familiar mischievous glint returned to Angela's eyes, "You want to take me with you? I'd love to be followed around by G.I. Joe everywhere I go."

Brennan smiled at her friend and impulsively hugged her. Angela returned the hug with a tight squeeze and then pulled back.

"So what requires your attention in Kosovo?"

"A pair of captains found some human skeletal remains in the mountains there. Attached to the remains they found were some dog tags that appeared to be American. Based on the photographs I've seen so far I'd say the remains have been there six or seven years."

"They date back to the war," Angela said, understanding suddenly flooding through her. Booth had reacted so emotionally to the Devon Marshall case and she could just imagine his response to this case.

"How long are you going to be there?"

"No longer than a week. I just need to retrieve the remains and render an ID. The U.N. police force there will handle the investigation and I don't foresee being required for that."

Angela nodded and then cocked her head.

"So what _are_ you going to tell Booth?" Ange asked with an eyebrow raised.

"That I'm going on vacation."

"Ok, Bren, do you remember what happened on your vacation to New Orleans? Booth didn't have a problem crashing your solo trip that time around. What makes you so sure that he won't this time?"

"Because I'll tell him that my vacation involves a large conference in Vienna where I'll be attending lectures on such things as metric and comparative analysis of sexual dimorphism in the Thai femur."

"Why Vienna?"

"I have a layover there before I fly to Pristina. If Booth so desires, I can even show him the ticket."

"Well, you know what you're playing with," Angela said with a shrug and getting up.

"What is she playing with?" a familiar male voice asked from the doorway.

Brennan stood and smiled at Booth who was leaning against the doorframe of her office and shooting her his charm smile.

"She's playing with bones as always," Angela shot in and then headed for the doorway. "I'll see you later, Bren."

Brennan nodded at her friend and then turned back to the man who had now come further into her office and flopped down in her desk chair.

"Make yourself comfortable," she offered wryly.

"Thanks, Bones, I will," he replied, a cheeky grin crossing his face.

"What do you want Booth? If you need my help on a case I won't be able to help," Brennan said as she strode over to her desk and leaned against it, her leg almost touching Booth's.

"No, I was just dropping by to ask you to look over some evidence on a case to see if there was anything the forensics team missed," Booth said, internally making a face at his lame excuse. The truth was he hadn't seen the forensic anthropologist in the past few days and he'd missed her.

"The FBI forensics unit is very good, Booth. I highly doubt they missed anything," Brennan said but took the file he was holding out to her.

"How come you wouldn't be able to help me on a case?" Booth asked curiously.

"I'm going on a short trip."

"A vacation, Bones? Do you remember your last vacation? How about you spare me a solo flight and just invite me to go with you?" Booth said, waggling his eyebrows in a way that made her chuckle but she perceived the real concern in his eyes.

"It's not a vacation exactly. I'm going to attend an anthropological conference in Vienna and then take in some of the sights. I'll only be gone about a week."

"A week in Vienna. Sounds nice. Sure you don't want to bring me?" Booth asked, his tone still teasing and the same look in his eyes.

"No, I don't. And you wouldn't enjoy all those lectures anyway."

"Are you taking anyone with you?" Booth asked with what he hoped was disinterest.

"No, I'm going alone."

"Alone?"

"Booth, don't worry, I'm not you. When I'm away on vacation alone, I never think about not coming back."

"Glad to hear it," Booth said, the anxiousness gone from his eyes. "It's probably for the best anyway. I wouldn't have a case to work with you even if you were here. I'm giving testimonies at three trials this week. Amazing how all of the cases managed to come up at the same time too."

"Oh well, a little break every now and then can be good for you," Brennan said, handing back the folder. "I don't see anything amiss but I'd suggest a more thorough check into the household staff's backgrounds. Whoever did this research did it in a half…" she paused trying to think of the phrase Angela used.

"Half-assed?" Booth offered, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Yes, half-assed manner."

"I'll keep that in mind. So when do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"Wow, short notice."

"Yes, well, I wasn't sure I'd be able to go until today," Brennan said awkwardly, turning away from her partner in the hopes that he wouldn't see through her lie.

"Do you need a ride to the airport?" Booth offered, inwardly hoping she'd say yes and offer him one last opportunity to see her before she disappeared for an entire week.

"No, although it's kind of you to offer. Angela's going to take me. But I do have a favor to ask."

"Anything for you, Bones."

"An intriguing proposition," Brennan said with a raised eyebrow, completely missing her own double entendre to Booth's delight, "but all I was going to ask was that you stop by my apartment on Wednesday and water my plants. You still have a key, right?"

"Yeah, I do," Booth said, inwardly puffing up that Brennan trusted him enough to entrust him with a spare key to her apartment. "I can water your plants, bring in mail, whatever you need."

"Oh mail, that's a good idea," Brennan said, suddenly and then whirled away from where she'd been leaning on the side of her desk towards the door.

"Umm, Bones, where are you going?" Booth asked, his feet off of her desk in a heartbeat and planted firmly on the ground in preparation to go after her at a moment's notice.

"I need to go do something. I'll see you next week, Booth."

"What, no kiss goodbye?" Booth asked, his charm smile planted firmly on his face.

Brennan returned the smile, unable to resist him and she tossed a cheeky reply over her shoulder as she strode off down the corridor, "Booth, isn't that supposed to be the woman's line?"

Booth leaned back in Brennan's chair. She was one hell of a woman.

* * *

Angela stood and watched Brennan as she checked in for her flight at the American Airlines counter at the JFK airport. The drive to New York City had excited Angela and she'd planned to take the next two days off from work to spend some time shopping and hit a few art galleries. She also had a few friends in SoHo who were anxious to see her. Brennan handed her luggage over to the attendant at the desk and then strode back to her friend, ticket, boarding pass, and passport in hand.

"Well," Angela began and felt her eyes suddenly fill with tears for reasons that eluded her.

"Aw, Ange, don't cry. I'll be fine. I'll be back before you're ready for me," Brennan said, a teasing smile crossing her face.

Angela sniffed and the moisture disappeared just as suddenly as it appeared, "I know. I'm still not wild about this whole lying to Booth thing though. Especially when it involves me running interference. He can practically smell when I'm lying."

"Well, he won't sniff this one out. He wasn't even the slightest bit suspicious when I told him yesterday."

"If you say so. Did you come up with a contingency plan like I told you?"

"Oh yes," Brennan said, reaching into her pocket and fishing out a square, plain, white envelope with her partner's name scrawled across the front in her distinctive handwriting, "I almost forgot to give you this."

"A letter? You're contingency plan is a letter? I was hoping for at least an anvil."

Brennan laughed, "Ange, he won't find out, I'll be fine, and I'll see you next week."

"You're flying into Dulles?" Angela asked.

"Yes. I'll call you. And if there's a sudden emergency I do have my satellite phone with me. You remember the number?"

"I've got it written down. Guess we're down to the goodbyes now," Angela said, reaching out and enveloping her friend in a tight hug.

"Be careful. Listen to the G.I. Joes and stay out of trouble," she said gently in her friend's ear.

"Be good. Keep my lab in one piece and make sure Booth doesn't jump on any airplanes," Brennan replied.

Pulling away from each other they smiled and then Brennan shouldered her carry-on bag and headed towards the security gates. As Angela watched the familiar auburn-haired woman disappear into the crowd beyond the barrier she felt a sudden pang in her chest and an odd sense of foreboding but she shook it away. She had shopping to do, art galleries to visit, and that cute guy she'd met a few years back had insisted they get together for drinks. Brennan would be fine. She always was.

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_Ok, first chapter done. What did you think? Good, bad, ugly? For any comments, suggestions or questions you know what button to push and by doing so you'll make me happy. And you should make my muse more productive._


	2. Arrivals

Many apologies for this update being so long in the making. It took a while for my muse to get her butt into gear but all of your fantabulous reviews definitely helped motivate her. This fic has now taken on a little bit of a new dimension that I hope you'll like. _Italics_ indicate a flashback.

Disclaimer: Not mine because I'd be doing things with greater repercussions to the show if I actually owned them.

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**Ch. 2 – Arrivals**

Brennan sighed as she glanced at her watch for the thousandth time since she'd left Vienna. The flight to Pristina was only supposed to have been two hours which had stretched into four hours over fifteen minutes before. They'd been flying in circles over the airport for the latter half of the flight but none of the flight attendants would breathe a word about what was happening. For most of the flight she'd managed to distract herself with one of the books she'd packed in her carry on but for the past hour she had started to feel concerned. Delays were normal at any airport but spending two hours above the airport in Pristina seemed a little extreme to her. It wasn't Heathrow by any stretch of the imagination.

"Attention ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing shortly and ask that you fasten your seatbelts. We apologize for the delay and hope that you enjoy the rest of your trip. Thank you," the pilot announced in German.

The message was then repeated in English but Brennan tuned it out and fastened her seatbelt in preparation for landing. After doing so, she peered out of the window over the shoulder of the dozing man beside her and felt her eyes widen at the sight of smoke streaming out of several windows in the airport below.

A flight attendant was walking past and Brennan caught her attention.

"What happened down there?" she asked, suddenly grateful for the German classes she'd taken in high school. The woman started at Brennan's flawless German and then seemed to recognize her. She bent over conspiratorially and spoke softly close to Brennan's ear.

"I don't know exactly but the Captain said that there was an explosion in the terminal we were supposed to use today. It went off about ten minutes after we were supposed to land. If we hadn't have been late, we'd..." she trailed off.

"Be dead right now," Brennan supplied for the stunned attendant who nodded her agreement. Brennan indicated her thanks and watched the young woman walk towards the front of the plane. Then she found her gaze irresistibly drawn to the haze below her. The explosion was coincidental. She knew for a fact that there were several U.N. officials on this flight who were headed for a meeting to evaluate the success of their current mission in Kosovo. It was egocentrism to even think that the explosion had anything to do with her arrival.

And yet, despite all the logic that solidly concluded that her arrival and the bombing were unrelated, a niggling voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like Booth was quietly insisting that the events were not as unrelated as they seemed. Dismissing it as paranoia, she shoved Booth's voice into a corner of her brain and then proceeded to ignore it. She had more important things to contemplate once she hit the ground.

* * *

Brennan tugged on the handle of her rolling suitcase and pushed through the crowd of onlookers, media, and emergency personnel who were all crowded around the entrance of the terminal at which her plane had been intended to land. Finally freeing herself from the almost overwhelming mass of people, she emerged from them with a final shove and took a deep breath that was free of the combined scent of airplane and body odor. She quickly passed through customs and exiting the last set of metal detectors, she arrived in the main waiting area of the Pristina Airport. 

Her blue-green eyes combed the crowd and immediately picked out the pair of young military men, one of whom was holding a sign reading, "Dr. Temperance Brennan". Tightening her grip on the handle of her luggage, she strode towards them purposefully and stopped a foot and a half away from the closer of the two. Extending her free hand to shake she introduced herself.

"I'm Temperance Brennan."

"Captain Jamie Sommers," the dark-haired young man replied, shaking her hand firmly.

"Captain Luke Granger," the taller, sandy-haired man beside Jamie introduced himself in turn, also shaking her hand.

"Delighted to meet you," Brennan said, shifting her shoulder bag, which had begun to cut into her collarbone unpleasantly. "Where are you parked? I'd really love to get away from anything that has to do with airplanes at the moment."

"This way," Jamie said, taking the handle of Brennan's suitcase away from her and heading out towards the warm sunshine that streamed through the glass windows above her head. Ordinarily, Brennan would have fought any attempt at chivalry and insisted on hauling her own luggage but at the moment she was too tired and jet-lagged to do anything more than half-heartedly contemplate pulling her suitcase back.

Following the pair of captains in their green army fatigues and blue baseball caps that designated them as U.N. forces Brennan suppressed a yawn. She had every intention of sleeping on the drive to the camp where she would be spending the week. Based on her evaluation of the map she'd found it would be a two to three hour drive and she hoped to catch up on her sleep. She then hoped to get a head start on the recovery of the remains, which had remained untouched since their discovery in deference to her requests that they be left undisturbed until her arrival.

Temperance placed her shoulder bag on the seat beside her after clambering into the backseat of the white jeep.

"How was your flight?" Granger asked politely over his shoulder as he started the vehicle.

"It was fine, but Captain Granger…"

"Luke, please."

"Luke, you don't have to bother making small talk. I'd much rather prefer getting some sleep during the drive to camp, if that's alright with the two of you."

"Oh, it's fine by us," Jamie answered, "but I wish you luck, Dr. Brennan. The roads outside of Pristina are not in terribly good condition and there are potholes that you could lose a Boeing 747 in so the ride is going to be a bit bumpy. If you do give up on trying to sleep, let us know. We've gotten pretty good at making long drives at least slightly entertaining."

"Thank you for the offer," Temperance replied with a slight smile and then closed her eyes. If she could just sleep for the drive through the Pristina, maybe she could handle the rest of the day.

* * *

Booth sighed and leaned his head against the closed door of his apartment. It had been an agonizingly long day. He'd been asked to be at court at nine in the morning and hadn't actually taken the stand until almost four that afternoon. If his other testimonies went like today's he wasn't sure he wanted to go. Tugging at his tie to loosen it and sliding out of his dress shoes, he strode into his kitchen and pulled out a bottle of water. Maybe he could have the lawyers indicted for slowness and stupidity. Unlikely but an entirely entertaining thought at the moment.

Wandering into the living room, he flopped down on the couch, snatched the remote off of the coffee table and replaced it with his feet. Turning on the TV, he flipped from the sports channel he'd been watching the night before to the news in an effort to end the isolation he'd felt encapsulating him during the trial.

The good-looking, bleached-blonde anchorwoman had just changed camera angles and began with, "In international news today, tensions between Israelis and Palestinians continue to escalate…"

"What else is new?" Booth muttered, getting up and returning to the kitchen to rustle up some food. Not wanting to cook after his long day, he chopped some vegetables for a salad and heated some leftover pizza in the microwave. Taking the food back to the living room, he began contemplating his choice of entertainment for the evening. He could watch Pirates of the Caribbean again or there was one of the many Friends re-runs that were always on TV. Deciding on the pirate flick, he'd just set down his food when the anchorwoman suddenly caught his attention again.

"There was a bombing at the international airport in Pristina, Kosovo today. The blast injured twenty airport employees. Fortunately, the flight that had been intended to land at the terminal where the bomb had been planted was delayed."

Booth sat down hard on his couch, watching the footage of the after-effects of the blast. There were a few large chunks of concrete strewn across the floor and large glass shards sparkled alongside. A few plastic chairs had been blown off the metal bars that had been their supports. A woman in a dark blue suit was holding a scrap of fabric to the head wound of a man sitting on the floor. Several other individuals in the background were being checked over by paramedics. All of the airport employees had the familiar glazed glance that indicated shock.

"No groups have currently accepted responsibility," the anchorwoman continued. "Our own Ash Biggs was at the scene a few hours after the blast."

The footage switched to the young, brunette reporter standing in front of a large crowd and then the camera panned away from her to familiar sights of broken concrete, glass, as well as the burning remnants of something unidentifiable.

Hopping out of the chopper and down onto the uneven ground, he waved at the pilot and then stepped away from the helicopter and watched as its rotating blades lifted it back up into the air. Turning to face the small group of men in fatigues standing a few feet away, he saluted the ranking officer. The man returned the salute and then indicated for him to stand at ease.

"_Glad you're here, Booth. We're in desperate need of a man like you," the officer said, and then nodded towards the collection of tents 500 yards away. "Let's get you settled," he said and headed in the direction of the army compound._

_Booth followed, adjusting the strap of his bag on his shoulder as he did so. The ground beneath his feet was uneven and the grass was either a dead brown or a singed black. Obviously this hadn't always been the base camp for the American contingent in Kosovo. The acrid smell of smoke filled his nostrils and out of the corner of his eye he spotted a few hundred feet away a dark-haired young girl wearing a tattered dress and clinging to the remains of what had been a doll. Her large, almost black eyes stared hauntingly at him, cutting his soul so sharply he almost gasped at the pain the sight of her caused him. This mission would be for her._

Booth started from his memories at the voice of the reporter who was now sympathetically listening to the account of one of the unharmed employees who had been in the terminal during the explosion. Booth's eyes drifted over the crowd behind the reporter and then his gaze narrowed and he frowned. Near the back of the crowd, pushing in the opposite direction of almost everyone else, was an auburn-haired individual and for a moment he was convinced it was Bones. But that couldn't be. She was in Vienna for some achingly dull forensic anthropology conference. She couldn't possibly be in Pristina. Watching the individual until she disappeared, he couldn't help the feeling that it eerily looked like the back of his partner's head.

Shaking his head, he headed over to the cabinet where he kept his DVDs and pulled out the Pirates case. Obviously he missed Brennan more than he'd originally thought if he was seeing her in news footage. Some good swashbuckling would take his mind off of her. Well, until the skeletons appeared on-screen.

* * *

Brennan stepped down out of the jeep and felt several joints pop and crack after being released from the cramped position she'd found herself in for the almost five hour drive to the camp. She had managed to steal almost a half hour of sleep while driving through Pristina but the rest of the trip had been spent attempting to distract herself from the bone-rattling journey. She'd gained an immediate appreciation for Jamie and Luke who'd managed to make her laugh as well as intrigued her with their many stories.

Taking a few unsteady steps forward, she felt surprised that the ground remained solid and stationary as she walked. She'd been in that jeep for far too long. Hauling her shoulder bag out of the backseat and over her shoulder, she shielded her eyes from the setting sun. So much for getting a head start on her examination of the remains. She knew that the site was another hour and a half drive and a half hour hike, by which time it would be dark and she knew that the necessary means to light the scene were unavailable. And she had to admit that she was in no way eager to jump back in the jeep.

Jamie hauled her suitcase out of the back of the jeep and then indicated for her to follow him towards the group of what could only be described as shacks that were arranged in a semi-circle around what appeared to have been a school at one point.

"Camp, sweet camp," Luke said ironically. "It may not look like much but it's got walls, a roof, some running water, and electricity at least half the time. And we've got one of the better cooks in this part of Kosovo so you won't be living on gruel and hardtack."

Temperance smiled, "Sounds wonderful but my major concern is are there beds with something that will pass for a pillow and a blanket?"

"Definitely," Jamie said. "I'm sure you're exhausted, Dr. Brennan, and we'll get you set up in a bunk right after we eat and then we'll get an early start tomorrow so that you can do your stuff."

"You two are coming with me?" Brennan asked, inwardly glad that she wouldn't have to meet yet more people and have them hover around her while she did her work. She'd established a level of comfort and familiarity with the pair of young captains and she was grateful that she'd be spending her time with them.

"We've been assigned to you for the duration of your trip," Luke announced proudly.

"You have no idea how glad we are that you came," Jamie added, "because we were supposed to be doing road crew duty this week. And while the roads are in desperate need of help, neither of us are too fond of tar and gravel."

Brennan smiled and then yawned.

"Ok, J, we should really get the doctor to the cafeteria and then set her up for some sleep 'cause I think she's about to keel over from exhaustion on us," Luke said, snatching Brennan's shoulder bag from her before she could protest.

"Sounds good. And if I remember right, I think we're getting mashed potatoes tonight and something that will at least resemble roast beef."

"Mmm, let's go before it's all gone," Luke said, falling into step with Brennan and the pair followed Jamie into the darkened halls of the school.

* * *

Booth sighed with relief upon entering the air-conditioned Medico-Legal Lab of the Jeffersonian. Although it was almost September, the mercury had gone soaring that day and even in a pair of jeans and a t-shirt he was still uncomfortable in the heat. Walking past Brennan's darkened office he went further down the hall and was surprised to find the lab's resident artist in her office, hunched over a large sketchpad.

"Angela? What are you doing here? I thought you were spending the weekend in New York?"

Angela looked up, startled and for a brief moment Booth thought he caught a glimpse of panic in her eyes but it quickly disappeared behind her easy-going smile.

"I was but then I saw a news report…" she hesitated inexplicably and then continued, "on the Jeffersonian. We've gotten a set of remains from Morocco and I thought a face might be required."

"Wow, that's not like you."

"What do you mean?"

"I just mean that usually when you take vacation you won't come back unless the world is ending. The world isn't ending, is it? Brennan's ok?"

"As far as I know, she's just fine," Angela said, ducking her head and returning her attention back to her sketchpad.

"That's good. You'd tell me if anything…"

"You'd be the first to know," Angela interrupted solidly, her eyes honest and reassuring.

"Good, that's good," Booth said with a nod and then picked up an eraser off of Angela's desk and began tossing it up in the air.

"You know, it was the weirdest thing," he said. "I was watching the news last night and they were showing footage from this explosion in an airport in Kosovo and for a few seconds I could have sworn that Bones was in the crowd."

Angela's head snapped up and the anxious look had returned to her eyes. Booth felt the sensation in his gut that he got when suspects were leading him closer to the truth and he suddenly became aware that everything was not as it seemed here. However, just as quickly as the panicked look had appeared it disappeared and Angela stared at him with a blank expression.

"That is weird. Want me to analyze exactly what that means?"

"No," Booth said, his eyes scanning her face and catching a hint of something in her eyes before she returned her attention to her sketching.

"So what brings you to the Jeffersonian on a Saturday?" Angela asked, her voice intentionally bright and careless. "You're not working too?"

"Nah, I don't have anything but paperwork to do until I've finished all my court dates. Actually Zach called me. He wants to consult me on some aspects of something for one of his theses."

Angela smiled brightly, "Sounds fun. I think Zach and Hodgins are up on the platform, wishing for something more exciting than a dead Moroccan. Plus, Dr. Goodman is working his archeologist magic, so they're pining away for Brennan."

Booth smiled, "Pining, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Angela said emphatically and then made a shooing motion with her hands. "Go join the party, I'll catch you later."

"Ok, see ya."

Booth headed out of the artist's office and out into the main area of the lab, spotting all three of the men Angela had mentioned up on the forensics platform. Swiping his card, he climbed the stairs and waved at the group that turned to see him when the post had emitted its familiar chirp.

"Booth, my man," Hodgins greeted him, "please say you've got a juicy FBI case for us to work on."

"Sorry, Hodgins, no such luck. Zach wanted to consult me on something."

"Yes, thank you for arriving so promptly," Brennan's assistant greeted him and ushered him to a stool alongside an empty examination table.

"Wonderful to see you Agent Booth," Dr. Goodman greeted him and then started backing away towards the stairs. "I'd love to stay and chat but I want to check some references up in my office to place our Moroccan friend in a more complete context. I'll see you later."

Booth watched the director of the Jeffersonian practically sprint down the stairs and away from the platform in the direction of his office. Once again, his gut was saying that something was definitely off.

"Ok, what the hell is going on?" Booth asked the two men in lab coats who were watching their boss' retreat.

"I don't know, but he only started acting weird once you showed up," Hodgins contributed and then turned back to his microscope.

"Angela acted almost the same way when I showed up," Booth muttered, more to himself than to his companions.

"Intriguing," Zach said and then placed several typed pages, "but even more intriguing is this section on how working with homicide investigators can help expand a forensic anthropologist's context for their subject. Could you read this and make any corrections you think are necessary?"

Booth raised an eyebrow, took the pen the younger man offered and looked briefly down at the papers before him before looking upwards again. Something was going on here that only and Angela and Dr. Goodman knew about. And he was dead certain it had something to do with Bones. He was going to find out what had the artist and archaeologist so nervous.

"I'm going to figure this thing out," he muttered under his breath.

"Power to you, man," Hodgins said from his microscope.

"Will you please concentrate on my thesis?" Zach asked while he stared at the set of remains on the other examination table.

Turning his gaze back to the papers he inwardly admitted that Zach and Hodgins weren't the only ones pining for the return of a certain forensic anthropologist. Damn, he missed her.

* * *

_Ok, this obviously isn't a flashback. So, what did you think? What parts did you love, hate, feel ambivalent towards? Have any suggestions? Want to bribe my muse with marshmallows? You know what button to push to let me know all about it. My muse and I will love you for it._


	3. Digging Deeper

Once again, I give huge thanks to everyone who reviewed. You guys can definitely make my muse's day (and mine too). Plus, it throws the creative juices into overdrive. Enjoy the end product!

Disclaimer: If I owned them, I wouldn't be doing this. Seriously.

* * *

**Ch. 3 – Digging Deeper**

Brennan stretched, yawned, and then sat up in her bunk. After a short meal the night before with Luke and Jamie, the two men had escorted her to the women's section of the school building that had largely been turned into a dormitory of sorts. There, one of the women had directed her to her bunk, pointed out the washrooms and handed over some bedding. After setting up the bed to her satisfaction Brennan had instantly dropped off to sleep. Glancing at her watch now she noted that it was just a little after six in the morning.

She quickly went through her morning routine of washing up and getting dressed and then headed in the direction of the cafeteria, where she had promised to meet Jamie and Luke. The two were already sitting at a table, shoveling down what looked like porridge, eggs and bacon. They waved at her and she joined them after filling her own tray.

"Good morning, Dr. Brennan," Jamie greeted her and Luke nodded in her direction as greeting, his mouth full.

"Morning, Jamie. You know, you really could call me Temperance. We are going to be spending a great deal of time together. Familiarity would be expected."

"Sorry, ma'am. I've got to follow certain rules of decorum and that includes showing a certain amount of respect when addressing civilians I'm designated to protect. So it's either Dr. Brennan or ma'am, take your pick."

"Dr. Brennan, please."

"Dr. Brennan it is. So before we head off on our little adventure for today, Major Spencer would like to speak with you briefly."

Brennan nodded around her mouthful of oatmeal and then smiled as Luke and Jamie began gossiping about who had been out past curfew and who had dinged their jeep the day before. For a moment it reminded her of Angela and the rest of her team at the Jeffersonian and she felt a brief pang of homesickness. Swallowing the last of her breakfast, she stood up, tray in hand, and headed towards the exit. Jamie and Luke quickly got up and followed her.

The pair directed her towards one of the shacks, close to the former-school, and then promised to retrieve her bag filled with the necessary equipment that she had left on her bed and meet her at the jeep. They waved at her in a boyish way that reminded her of how young the two men were.

Stepping over the threshold of the small building she blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness of the interior compared with the brilliant sunlight she had left. As everything inside slowly became discernible she noted three men hunched over a computer, a radio, and a phone respectively. In the further corner, she saw two men studying several maps that were posted on the wall. The man at the computer finally noticed her.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

"I was told to see Major Spencer," Brennan offered.

"He's the taller one in the corner over there," the man said, indicating the man he meant with a nod of his head.

"Thank you."

She circled the three men who were now all once again immersed in whatever they had been doing before and approached the pair in the corner. Stopping a few feet away from them she called out, "Major Spencer?"

The taller man turned away from studying the map to face her. He had dark hair that was beginning to gray at the temples and a well-trimmed mustache that gave him a distinguished air of seniority. He looked her up and down and then stuck out his hand in greeting, "You must be Dr. Brennan. It's a pleasure to meet you."

Brennan smiled, "Thank you, sir. I was told you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, ma'am. I just wanted to thank you for coming out here to help us with this mess. Granger and Sommers are under orders to help you in any way possible and once you've recovered the remains and rendered an I.D. we'll get you back home right away."

"Thank you, sir, I appreciate that."

"Wonderful. Well, I'll let you get to work. Let me know if there's anything you need or if there's anything I can do for you."

"I will. Thank you."

The major shook her hand again and then turned back to his maps. Brennan exited the small building and began walking across the field, down the well-worn path towards where many of the troops' jeeps were parked. The sun was already bright and warm. She'd dressed for hiking, wearing thick wool socks, sturdy boots, somewhat loose khaki pants, a dark tank top and a long-sleeved shirt over top. The hat on her head was intended to shield her eyes from the sun, as sunglasses would interfere with her ability to study the scene. Pulling off the tan long-sleeved shirt, she draped it over one arm and then hurried towards the jeep where she had spotted Jamie and Luke. She was eager to get started on the recovery and identification of the remains.

* * *

Brennan relished the light breeze that danced across her skin, lifting the hair at the base of her neck. The hour and a half ride in the jeep had been jolting, but having expected it to be so, she hadn't found it to be as bad as the day before. Maybe a good night's sleep had made it more bearable. Reaching the base of the mountain, the trio had begun the half hour hike upwards with Luke taking the lead and Jamie bringing up the rear. The pair of military men had insisted on this configuration, informing Brennan that the region was still relatively unstable and that she would be safer between them. She had been tempted to argue but the same nagging voice that sounded so much like Booth resounded in her head and told her to listen. This was for her safety and she had no desire to be injured during this job. It would lead to far too many questions from Booth and she'd already hated the lies she'd told him thus far. She didn't think she could handle keeping too much more from him. Their relationship was based on trust and she'd violated that foundation enough already. 

She was distracted from thoughts of her FBI partner when Luke stopped ahead of her.

"We're here," he announced and pointed to the small patch of white that protruded from the dark earth.

Brennan examined it briefly, determining it to be a sternum. Pulling her backpack off, she pulled out a pair of latex gloves and then a small trowel. Pacing out three feet from the protruding bone, she began to dig in a perimeter around the remains. As she dug slowly, she looked up briefly at her companions and offered, "You guys may want to get comfortable, we're going to be here a while."

A little over an hour later, she had revealed most of the skeleton which she had already determined to be a male in his late twenties or early thirties. She had exposed most of the remains with the exception of his left arm. Digging near his left scapula, she unexpectedly connected with something hard that put up the resistance typical of bone. It seemed an irregular position for the arm to be in but Brennan shrugged it off and digging more carefully she slowly began to expose the bone. As she did so, she felt a growing sense of dread and she pulled out a brush to remove the last of the loose dirt. Gently brushing away the last of the earth, she sat back on her heels and stared back at the widely grinning face of another skull. Jamie suddenly bent over her shoulder.

"Shit," he whistled lowly.

"Precisely," Brennan replied.

* * *

Angela started at the ringing of the phone on her desk. No one ever called her at work. Except for… Scooping up the phone she answered, half knowing who would be on the other end.

"Bren?"

"Hey Ange," her friend answered, her voice tired.

"How are you?"

"I'm doing alright."

"What time is it there? You sound exhausted."

"It's about nine. It's only a six hour time difference, Ange."

"Ok. Sweetie, I'm going to put you on speaker 'cause I need my hands, ok?"

"Sure."

Pressing the necessary buttons, Angela returned to her facial reconstruction of the Moroccan corpse.

"Ok, can I say that I'm very upset that you didn't call me yesterday? There was a bombing at the airport at the terminal where you were supposed to land. It was on the news. And you don't call."

"I'm sorry, Ange. I was just so tired after the flight and then the drive. I couldn't think much further beyond pillow and sleep."

Angela smiled, "I totally understand that. But I should warn you, Booth saw you on TV."

"What?" Brennan asked, the alarm in her voice obvious.

"He doesn't know it was you. He just saw the back of your head and he thinks it was someone who reminded him of you."

"Oh," Brennan sighed with relief.

"But I can just say that it really says something that the man can pick you out in a huge crowd on television. He knows the back of your head, Bren. He knows how you walk. He knows everything."

"He does not know everything. He doesn't know where I am."

"True," Angela said with a nod. "So why'd you call? Besides the obvious of reassuring your best friend that you're fine."

"I'm calling to let you know that I may be here a little bit longer than originally anticipated."

"Why?"

"Well, when I was exposing the remains today I found another two complete skeletons and I began unearthing a third. I'm not quite sure how many more there are, but having to identify all of these remains will take significantly longer than I had originally anticipated. I also think there may be a few more."

"Are they all American?"

"No. So far, only one of them is wearing dog tags. The other two skeletons I unearthed today were female, one an adult woman and the other a woman in her teens."

"Oh wow," Ange replied, realizing all the possible implications of finding these remains.

"How were they killed?"

"Gunshot wounds so far."

"So you have more digging to do tomorrow?" Angela asked.

"Yes."

"Ok. Be careful and listen to your G.I. Joes."

"I will," Brennan said, the smile evident in her voice. "Oh, Ange?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you to tell Booth."

"Tell me what?" Booth queried from the doorway of Angela's office, where he was leaning rather nonchalantly.

"Booth?" Brennan's voice asked, a hint of alarm hidden within it that Booth's sharp ears picked up on.

"The one and only. Miss me already, Bones?"

"Desperately," she answered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "How long have you been listening?"

"All I heard was that Angela needed to tell me something."

"Oh," Brennan breathed.

There was a sense of relief embedded in that single word that Booth picked up on. While others found Bones hard to read, he found her to be an open book for the most part. When she wasn't playing the part of the detached scientist, her emotions were very close to the surface. Even without facial expressions to read, Booth knew all the nuances of his partner's voice in such detail that it almost scared him.

"So what did Angela need to tell me?"

"Just that I may not be back as soon as I had originally anticipated."

"Why?" Booth asked, his internal alarms going off and his brow immediately creasing in worry.

"Umm, I've been asked to aid in the recovery and identification of some remains here and the job is large enough that it may add almost another week to my trip."

"So much for a vacation, Bones. I knew you couldn't spend a week without doing something that involved skeletons."

"Glad to live up to expectations," she replied dryly and then yawned audibly. "Excuse me, it's been a long day."

"Oh, sure," Angela shot in. "Well, I'll let you go then Bren. Take care, be safe, and remember what I told you."

"I will."

"Hey Bones, take care of yourself. And remember that I'm not there to keep you out of trouble."

"Trust me, I'm aware of that every second, Booth."

Booth grinned cockily at the idea that Bones was thinking of him every second.

"Bye, sweetie," Angela said, her finger hovering above the disconnect button.

"Goodnight, Bones," Booth said softly.

"Goodnight," Brennan said and then hung up, the dial tone soon resounding through Angela's office.

The artist watched Booth's expression as it went from a soft, almost loving expression to one that he wore when investigating a case.

"You know something seems off to me about that," he said aloud.

"Really, what?"

"Nothing in particular right now, but I'll figure it out. Trust me."

"Ok," Angela said, suddenly anxious to have the agent out of her office. "What are you doing here anyway?"

"I left a case file in Bones' office and I need it back."

"Oh, well, do you need me to help look or something?"

"No, I just heard her voice in here and I was curious."

"Well, you know what they say about curiosity," Angela said with a smile.

"Yeah. It may have killed the cat but it tends to get the FBI agent promoted."

Angela smiled.

"Anyway, I'm just going to go grab that stuff."

"Sure," Angela said, nodding her goodbye.

Booth walked down the short hall to his partner's office and stepped inside. Rummaging through the neat piles of file folders on her desk he knocked a small slip of paper off her desk. Bending over to pick it up he quickly skimmed the words in Brennan's familiar scrawl and then read them again more slowly.

_Admiral John Merrick_

_Department of Defense _

_International Affairs _

_Meet at 10:30 today _

Sitting down in Brennan's desk chair, he read the small note again. This had to have something to do with the weird vibes he'd been getting lately and his gut feelings that something more than a forensic anthropology conference was going on with his partner. And at that moment he was certain that Admiral Merrick had something to do with it.

* * *

Brennan stood and stretched, arching her back and hearing it pop after finding a new position after almost two hours of crouching down and digging. So far on her second day, she'd almost completely revealed the third set of remains, another woman, but this time, she'd been several months pregnant, the fetal bones lying in the pelvic cavity. Again near the left scapula she'd found another skull and inwardly she dreaded finding a mass grave on this mountainside. She turned her gaze upwards, shielding her eyes from the sun, and watched the thick, fluffy white clouds as they scudded across the sky. Luke had gone further into the bushes to relieve himself and Jamie was leaning against a tree, sketching the scene before him. Brennan had already had him take photographs, but having discovered that he had some artistic talent she had demanded that he also sketch the area. Putting her arm behind her head, she stretched it, enjoying the peace of the quiet mountain.

Suddenly, Luke's voice broke the stillness and called loudly to her, "Dr. Brennan, watch out!"

Brennan's gaze quickly shot towards the young man and then in the direction he was pointing. Her eyes widened in alarm as she watched several large boulders and a cascade of smaller stones hurtle at breakneck speed directly towards her.

_

* * *

The return of the evil cliffhangers. Ah, how I missed them. Anyway, what did you think? Good, bad, ugly? More dialogue, less dialogue. Delighted gushing? Don't care what I do as long as I update? To pass along any of these sentiments to my muse and I, you know what button to push._


	4. Changing Contexts

Huge apologies for this chapter being so long in coming. I promise the next one won't take this long. Also, many thanks to absolutely everyone who reviewed. Each one was greatly appreciated. Hope you survived the cliffhanger and made it back for this chapter. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Trust me, if I owned them, I'd be doing something better with my time.

* * *

**Ch. 4 – Changing Contexts**

Brennan's eyes quickly scanned the hillside attempting to determine the approximate route that the stones would take down the slope. After only the briefest of pauses, she dashed to the left, pulling at Jamie's arm and dragging him along after her. Reaching one of the larger trees that was only a few feet away from where she'd unearthed the first set of remains, she sat down roughly on the hard earth, pulling her knees towards her chest as she did so. The uneven bark of the tree dug into her spine and as the rocks moved ever closer, she ducked her head down, covering it with her arms so that her head was protected from any debris.

The sound of the rocks as they tumbled at a gravity-induced speed was similar to that of driving down a gravel road. Tilting her head to the side, she watched in awe as the largest of the boulders rolled over the spot where she could still see the imprints from her hiking boots. As the rocks rolled past and then further down the slope, she finally dared to lift her head. Her eyes connected with Jamie's, who stared at her wide-eyed. She turned to assure herself that Luke had survived unscathed and met the same shocked look in his eyes. Her shock at how sudden the slide had been quickly dissipated as her thoughts immediately turned to more vital matters.

"The bones!" she exclaimed more to herself than to her companions.

She quickly ran back to the remains she had just about finished extricating from the earth and began to assess the damage. She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of no breaks in the bones. The woman's cheekbone had been chipped slightly, but nothing that would be detrimental to her identification. The skull next to the latest skeleton's shoulder was also unharmed. She turned with a wide smile to her companions.

"It's ok. They're fine. The slide didn't harm the bones."

The pair of captains did not seem nearly as thrilled as she was at the news. In fact, they still seemed to be shocked and appalled at what had happened. Studying their expressions, however, it slowly dawned on the forensic anthropologist that it wasn't the slide that had sent them into this strange state of inarticulacy.

"What? What is it?" she asked, annoyance beginning to sneak into her voice at being clueless once again.

Luke swallowed hard and then managed to get out, "Dr. Brennan, it's… you… you're bleeding."

* * *

Booth glanced at his watch as he sipped the glass of water the waitress had placed before him a few minutes before. It had taken him most of the afternoon yesterday to manage to track down Admiral Merrick and set up a meeting with the man today. Bones' note had started him off in the right direction and after talking to a few old buddies who'd ended up at the DoD he'd finally managed to convince Merrick's secretary that he wasn't crazy and that this meeting was not below his notice. He'd also managed to keep this whole investigation off of Cullen's radar so far. He didn't want to have to explain to his boss how he was investigating just where his partner had gone for a week. He had a feeling he'd be told that it was a misuse of his time and FBI resources. But his gut said otherwise.

"Agent Booth?" a man in a dark green uniform asked as he approached the table.

Booth stood and greeted the other man, "Admiral Merrick. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"You as well. After my secretary informed me of just how much effort you put into getting this meeting I looked you up. You have a very impressive service record."

"Thank you, sir."

The two men sat down and the waitress quickly returned to take their orders. They then made small talk during their meal, discussing the sudden cold snap that was unusual for early September, the nightmare that was D.C. traffic, and the intriguing programs that could be found on the Discovery channel.

Pushing back his mostly empty plate, the admiral wiped his mouth and then said, "Well, Booth, how about we get down to the real reason that you asked for this meeting?"

Mirroring the admiral's actions, Booth replied, "Yes, sir."

"If your interested in returning to the military, I have a few connections who would be more than willing to offer you a position at the DoD and even within the Pentagon."

"That's very kind of you, sir, and although I am very proud of the time that I spent in the service, I don't have any intention of returning to it."

"Then why did you arrange this meeting?"

"Well, I discovered that you had a meeting with Dr. Temperance Brennan last week. She's my partner and we frequently work together on cases for the FBI. I assume that you recruited her to work on a case for you and I was wondering if you could tell me exactly where she is."

The admiral raised an eyebrow at the Bones' name and a small smile creased his face as he listened to Booth's request.

"That's an intriguing request, Agent Booth. Unfortunately, I can't grant it. I can confirm that Dr. Brennan is unearthing and identifying some remains for us but unfortunately I can't tell you where. That information is need to know and I left it to Dr. Brennan's discretion to inform whomever she felt was necessary of her location. Apparently, she did not feel that you required that information."

"But, sir, you don't understand. I have this feeling and I…"

"I understand the gut instincts of an FBI agent are very powerful and usually very accurate but unfortunately I can't help you. I do wish you luck though, Agent Booth. I'm sure that with your impressive investigative prowess that you'll eventually figure out where you're _partner_ is," the admiral said with finality and then stood up. He shook Booth's hand and then walked away shaking his head. Partners. So that was what they were calling it these days.

* * *

Temperance gave a cursory glance to the white bandage swathing her right bicep and gave a nod of approval. The cut had been shallow and after the initial shock of seeing blood, she had realized it was mostly superficial. A glass bottle that she had brought up with her had been shattered during the slide and a small piece had ricocheted off the rock and embedded itself in her arm. Although the cut now stung and was throbbing dully, she had been entirely unaware of it in the first few moments after the slide.

"Maybe we should head back, Dr. Brennan," Luke said, eyeing the hill above them uneasily.

"No. I want to finish unearthing these remains and pack them up before we head back to camp."

Luke and Jamie exchanged glances that she didn't understand and then nodded that she could continue with her excavation.

Several hours later, she had placed the remains of the pregnant woman and her fetus in separate recovery bags. She had also entirely uncovered the remains of a small girl, no more than six years old and set them into an evidence bag of their own. Next to the girl's shoulder had been another skull. The thought of having to spend another day on this mountain digging up remains was not pleasant in any way. Rolling her shoulders and hearing her neck pop she stood up and stretched. She eyed the distance between the sun and horizon and knew that it would begin to drop rapidly in about an hour.

From her bag she removed several wooden pegs and placed them around the skull that had been uncovered. She then stretched a plastic sheet over top in an effort to protect any evidence that was possibly buried with the remains from the elements, most particularly rain.

"Ready to go then, Dr. Brennan?" Jamie asked, the eagerness evident in his voice.

"Yes, Jamie. Just help me place these remains on the stretcher and we can get out of here."

He smiled in relief and removing the pack from his back, pulled out the folding stretcher that he carried with him. Unfolding the metal poles and stretching the canvas between them, he then watched as Brennan laid the three black bags on it. He then grabbed one end of the stretcher, she grasped the other and Luke brought up the rear, his eyes watching for anything suspicious.

Although Dr. Brennan and Jamie had attributed the rockslide to just a natural occurrence, Luke had found it strange that the slide had been aimed directly for the forensic anthropologist. It had been too much of a coincidence for him and for the rest of the afternoon he had been unable to shake the feeling that they were being watched. He looked over his shoulder one last time before the scene disappeared from view. It was more than the seemingly never ending sets of remains that Dr. Brennan continued to find that made the place so spooky. There was something else going on here. He knew it. His gut was never wrong.

* * *

Brennan smiled as she strode into the section of the school that made up the women's wing. Dinner with Jamie and Luke had been entertaining as usual and she was grateful for their humor and vivacity as it helped to take her mind off of the increasingly disturbing nature of the case. Usually, Booth would have eased her mind about such things but without him here…

Brennan frowned at the thought. She had been able to handle disturbing cases before, without Booth's help. She'd excavated mass graves, examined the remains of genocide victims, worked on serial rape and murder cases without Booth and she'd dealt with them. Why was it that now she suddenly wished that she had Booth around to make this case easier to handle? A voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like Booth offered the idea that she hadn't really handled those cases at all. She had studied them in her detached scientific manner but somehow this case could not be foisted off by detachment. Perhaps it was the notion that these remains could have easily have been Booth's that kept her from being able to maintain a level of detachment. Which made her wonder why it was suddenly impossible for her to achieve detachment concerning Booth. And why was it that she was spending so much time thinking about Booth anyway?

Shaking her head in an effort to remove all thoughts of her partner and the image of his smugly grinning face if he ever learned that she'd spent so much time thinking about him, she strode further down the hall and entered the former classroom where several sets of bunks were set up. She set her pack down on the floor next to the foot of her bed and slipped off her long-sleeved shirt, goose bumps rising on her arms in the cool air of the room. Sliding her hand under her pillow to retrieve her pajamas, her hands brushed against something that emitted the familiar sound of crackling paper. Lifting her pillow now, her eyes widened at the sight of the plain, white sheet of paper that had words boldly scrawled across it in blood-red ink. After the initial shock of finding the message, she read it over.

_Apparently all those PhDs don't make you so _

_smart after all. Take a hint. Leave now._

_Those remains are no concern of yours and if you_

_keep playing with them, a bunch of big rocks and _

_a bomb are going to be the least of your problems. _

_Regards,_

_The One who "rock"ed your world_

"This is not good," she breathed aloud.

* * *

_My apologies for this chapter being so short. I promise the ones coming up will be much longer. But what did you think of this one? A little on the bland side? Not enough plot progression? Or you like it just the way it is? You know what button to push to let me know._


	5. Saving Up For A Rainy Day

Thanks for all of your awesome reviews! They were truly and greatly appreciated. Hope you guys like this chapter just as much.

Disclaimer: They aren't mine and the chances they ever will be are zilch.

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**Ch. 5 – Saving Up for a Rainy Day**

Booth strode into the Jeffersonian's Medico-Legal Lab as if he owned the place. Although the lab itself was coldly scientific and detached from the real world, he knew that looking past the initial impressions revealed its human side. The couch in Brennan's lab, Angela's collection of various art objects, Zach and Hodgins bizarre, almost pet-like beetles all gave the building a softer side that while difficult to see at first had been there all along. It was strange how it reminded him of Bones who similarly had initially seemed cold and detached but after some effort on his part, she had begun to reveal the softer and more vulnerable side of herself. Shaking his head at himself he couldn't suppress the thought that he had it pretty damn bad if he was comparing the lab to the absent forensic anthropologist.

After his rather unproductive meeting with Admiral Merrick the day before, he'd attempted using some of his other military connections to attempt to find out Brennan's location. The effort had been fruitless. And it had apparently warranted Cullen's notice because he had dropped by Booth's office the evening before just to remind him that "his bone lady" was a grown woman who could take herself. Even without the gun she so desperately wanted. But despite the slightly discouraging tone of the deputy director's speech, there had been a look in his eye that belied a certain level of understanding.

Which was why, Booth felt in no way guilty about coming to the lab after testifying in court earlier that morning to try his luck at questioning Dr. Goodman. The man had been avoiding him ever since Bones had left and he had a feeling that the archaeologist knew more about Brennan's sudden "vacation" than he had been letting on.

Rapping on the doorframe of Goodman's office as a warning, Booth sauntered into the room the same way he walked into an interrogation room. Like he knew all the answers already and all he really required was some confirmation.

Dr. Goodman looked up at the harsh sound and there was a brief flash of something Booth couldn't define in his eyes, which quickly disappeared.

"Agent Booth. To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"Oh, I just had a few questions for you," Booth replied nonchalantly as he easily settled himself down in one of the chairs across from the museum director.

"Questions? For a case?"

"Something like that."

"Go ahead then."

Booth paused, evaluating the man before him and then jumped in with both feet.

"Bones isn't in Vienna, is she?"

Goodman jerked his head almost imperceptibly at the question but quickly recovered and replied, "Of course she is. If she isn't then there's a real problem on our hands."

"Oh there's a real problem. When I talked to her on the phone the day before yesterday, she said that she'd been asked to aid in the recovery and identification of some remains that had been found in Vienna. I checked the papers. Not a single mention of the discovery of any skeletal remains or the work of such a prestigious forensic anthropologist working on recovering them."

"Curious, but perhaps the local authorities managed to keep it under wraps," Goodman offered.

"Unlikely. They aren't exactly known for overwhelming discretion over there," Booth replied dryly.

Goodman nodded to acknowledge the validity of the point.

"I checked out all of the universities in Vienna. None of them are hosting anthropology conferences and although several have heard of Dr. Temperance Brennan and are eager to invite her to speak at their institutions if she's available, none are currently hosting the good doctor."

Goodman's brow wrinkled and he gave no response.

"I also talked to Admiral Merrick yesterday."

"Who is Admiral Merrick?"

"He works for the Department of Defense. He's mostly concerned with affairs in central and eastern Europe."

"Intriguing."

"He confirmed that Bones was doing some work for the military but he wouldn't confirm where. I called an old friend of mine who's deployed in Vienna and he said that he's never heard of Dr. Temperance Brennan."

"That is problematic for Dr. Brennan's assertions," Goodman replied slowly.

Booth snorted derisively in reply.

"What would you like from me Agent Booth?"

"I would like Bones' exact location."

"No dice. I will confirm that she is not in Vienna currently although she was there briefly on the way to her current location. However, Dr. Brennan strictly emphasized the fact that she had no desire for you to know where she is."

"Why?"

"She felt it would upset you."

Booth sighed in exasperation, "What the hell made her think that I wouldn't be upset if I didn't know where she was!"

Dr. Goodman shrugged and gave Booth a sympathetic look, "Dr. Brennan is occasionally oblivious to the ramifications that her actions have on others."

"Oblivious?" Booth said incredulously, "She's the Mack truck driver who runs over a pedestrian and doesn't notice kind of oblivious!"

"That does describe her pretty well," Goodman acknowledged dryly.

"So there's no real hope of my getting any more info out of you?" Booth asked, resigned to the answer that he knew was coming.

"No but I offer you luck in your investigation."

"Thank you."

"You're going to need it."

Booth smiled wryly at the widely grinning man across from him and then checked his watch.

"Damn, I have to be in court in half an hour."

"I won't keep you then. Good afternoon, Agent Booth."

Booth nodded and exited the office, his thoughts split between his upcoming testimony and just where the hell his partner was.

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Brennan awoke to the sound that was dreaded by anyone working on an excavation site. A heavy, steady rain. Rising from her bunk she walked slowly over to the window and gazed at the drenched and slightly muddy field outside. Large puddles stretched out across the mostly level ground. The steel gray clouds gave no indication that the downpour would be letting up any time soon. Sighing in resignation, she returned to her bunk and pulled on her clothes. Reaching into her bag to pull out a sweater to fend off the cool and damp, her hand brushed against the note that she'd found under her pillow the night before. She sighed again. The weather was a wonderful match for her mood. Dark.

Sitting down at the usual table where she had breakfast with Jamie and Luke she took a bite of toast and swallowed a mouthful of hot coffee before she greeted the pair of captains.

"How'd you sleep, Dr. Brennnan?" Jamie asked.

"Fitfully."

"Really?" Luke asked in surprise. "The case isn't getting to you, is it?"

"Sort of."

"You're kidding. I'd think that another set of bones wouldn't freak you out at all."

"It didn't."

"Then what did?" Luke asked, his eyes narrowing.

"This," Brennan said as she laid the note out on the table before them.

She watched the pair as they read the note over several times. With each successive reading, their breathing became more irregular, their hands clenched into tight fists, and their frowns deepened.

"When did you get this?" Luke demanded.

"I found it last night under my pillow," Brennan replied shortly, knowing the importance of succinct answers in what was sure to become an internal investigation.

"Under your pillow?" Jamie repeated.

"Yes."

"Do you know what that means?" Luke asked no one in particular.

"Someone on the inside has it on for me," Brennan replied.

"It's 'has it _in_' for you, Dr. Brennan," Jamie corrected, "but that is the logical conclusion."

"Which is nine different kinds of bad," Luke added.

"So what do we do?" Brennan asked.

"Well, first thing is, no trip to the mountains today," Luke began, ticking items off on his finger. "Second, we take this note to our resident analyst and third, we report this to our commanding officer. Meanwhile, you are to stay in the camp, leave the bones alone and stay out of trouble."

"Sir, yes, sir," Brennan said, a hint of a smirk playing around her lips.

"Dr. Brennan, this is serious," Jamie said, his eyes pleading with her to show some gravity.

"I understand that Jamie, but to be honest, I've been in worse spots before."

"Not while under the care of the American military you haven't," Luke said quietly. With that, the pair rose in unison and left the cafeteria, taking the note with them. Brennan sighed in resignation to spending a day doing nothing.

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Angela sighed and put down her sketchpad. A thick fog had settled over D.C. during the night and had yet to break, making the world feel dull and gloomy. Angela felt the same. Her best friend was out of the country and without another female presence in the lab, she felt isolated. After completing the face for the Moroccan corpse she had moved on to creating faces and aiding in the identification of two sets of remains from limbo as Zach still insisted on calling it. With Booth still involved in his marathon of court dates there had been no new exciting cases and she found that she missed the agent swooping in with a case and sweeping back out with Brennan at his side. That was the groove things at the Jeffersonian had fallen into and she missed the familiar pattern.

The shrill ringing of her telephone broke her thoughts.

"Hello?"

"Ange."

"Bren," Angela smiled at her friend's voice, "I was just busy missing you."

"I wouldn't get too used to that. There's been a new development in the case and the abbreviated version is that I'm going to be back earlier than I'd anticipated."

"You're coming back early? What happened?" the artist asked, feeling a small ball of anxiety beginning to build up in her gut. She listened in shocked silence as Brennan related the whole story of the rockslide, the note, and her personal G.I. Joes' reactions.

"So what did their CO decide?" she asked after Brennnan had finished.

"That after I finish excavating the last set of remains I will immediately return home and complete the identifications at the Jeffersonian."

"How much longer 'till you're back then?"

"Two days. Three at the most."

"Good. I hate to say it, sweetie, but I've had a bad feeling about you being over there."

"There's no need to worry, Angela. I'm perfectly safe."

"Says the woman who found a threatening note under her _pillow _last night."

"Good point."

Angela smiled and she could hear Brennan do the same on the other end of the line.

"Oh, Ange, can I get you to do me a favor?"

"Depends on what it is."

"I just need you to call Booth and ask him to water my plants today instead of tomorrow. And ask if he could check my answering machine and pass the messages on to you. I was expecting an urgent call from my publisher that I forgot about in the whole rush of getting out here."

"Sure, as soon as I'm done talking to you, I'll pass that on."

"Thank you, Angela, you're amazing."

"What are best friends for?"

"Ok, well, I have to go prepare the remains for transit…" Brennan said, trailing off, as she didn't truly want to end the conversation.

"Yeah, I have a reconstruction for Zach that I should really be working on."

"Alright, well, I'll see you in a few days, Ange."

"Bet your ass. Take care, sweetie."

"You too. Bye."

"Bye."

Although Brennan had reassured Angela that she was completely safe, the artist still could not shake the anxious feeling that had overwhelmed her. Picking up the phone, she dialed Booth's cell number and left a message on his voicemail. Then she opened the top drawer of her desk and pulled out the envelope that Brennan had handed her at the airport. She shoved it into her jacket pocket and then returned to her reconstruction. Worrying over Brennan would have to wait until later.

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Booth stepped out of the courthouse at ten to six that evening and took a deep breath of the crisp fall air. The sun was lowering, dropping close to the horizon, leaving the sky hovering near shades of pink and purple, although closer to the burning orb it was a glowering red-orange. Walking down the steps towards the structure where he had parked his car, he opened his cell phone and checked his messages. One from Rebecca, reminding him that he had Parker that weekend. Another from one of the guys at the bureau wondering if he had a few minutes to look over a case. And finally Angela's cheery voice resounded in his ear.

"Hey Booth. You're probably telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth right now. Hope it went ok. Anyway, Bren just called and asked me to ask you to go to her place today instead of tomorrow. Her publisher was supposed to leave a message for her and she forgot all about it. So if you could check her machine and then let me know if he called. Plus whatever else she asked you to do. Thanks. Later."

Pulling open the door to his SUV, Booth settled into his seat and then turned the key in the ignition. It was going to take him at least forty minutes to get to Bones' apartment in the rush hour traffic. Loosening his tie, he pulled out into the surge of moving vehicles and turned on the stereo. The first few strains of Hot Blooded flooded the car and he smiled.

Booth opened the solid wood door of his partner's apartment and took a deep breath. It smelled distinctly of her. Walking further inside, he shut the door behind himself and hung his coat up on the stand next to the door. A white card on the table with his name on it immediately caught his eye. Flipping it open, he found a key taped inside and a short note asking him to pick up the mail from her box downstairs. There were also instructions on how to water her plants. He smiled at the added note at the bottom that told him he was welcome to anything in the fridge.

Setting down the now-empty watering can, Booth surveyed his handiwork. He'd stacked the mail on the table, thrown out the rotten fruit that had been in the refrigerator, and given the plants their prescribed amount of water. Finally, he dragged a stool out from under the counter in the kitchen, pulled out his notepad and pen and faced Brennan's answering machine.

The red digital readout proudly displayed twenty-four messages. For a woman who spent most of her time at work she had a lot of phone calls. Booth listened and wrote down eight different messages from Brennan's publisher regarding the upcoming publication of her latest book. Ten more messages were from various area colleges and universities inviting her to lecture. Three were from David who apparently didn't even know that Brennan was out of the country. Instead he seemed to think that she was on a case with him. Booth raised an eyebrow at the fact that she'd barely told her boyfriend where she was going. What kind of relationship exactly did she have with that man? Two more messages were reminders from her drycleaners' that she had clothes waiting for her. Booth made a mental note to pick her things up the next day. The last message was from her brother, Russ.

"Hey Tempe. Ok, we should really go over telephone etiquette. When you're leaving the country the best way to tell your family is not to leave a message on their machine telling them where you're going and how long you'll be there. You should really have at least tried to call again. Anyway, I'm about to break my own rule but this news is too good not to share. You know that woman I've been seeing? Well, I finally managed to get up the courage and I asked her to marry me last night. She said yes. I'm still in shock. Anyway, call me when you get back from Kosovo and I'll tell you everything. Love you, sis. Take care."

Booth stared at the answering machine as if it had just flipped him off.

"She's in Kosovo?" he incredulously asked the empty apartment.

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Temperance tightened her ponytail as she stepped out of the school building and took a deep breath of the crisp, rain-washed air. Stretching one last time, she began to run across the sodden field. She had completed preparing the remains to be shipped back to the Jeffersonian an hour and a half before. Shortly afterwards, Jamie and Luke had informed her that she was allowed to leave the building but not the compound without them. Their commanding officer was anxious to have her out of their hands but felt that she was safe enough within the confines of the military camp.

The water splashed her ankles and she could feel the mud squishing beneath her shoes as she ran, her body reaching a comfortable steady rhythm. The sky was almost dark and she could already feel the temperature dropping quickly. Reaching the edge of the open field in front of the school, she spotted a set of soccer posts at the other end. Changing direction, she began to run towards them, planning on making several loops of the field before going back in to change for dinner.

Lost in her thoughts and maintaining her even breathing she was unaware of the figure in dark clothes running behind her and slightly to her left. It was only when he tackled her to the ground that she recognized his presence.

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Angela sighed as her doorbell rang. She'd ordered the pizza twenty minutes ago and she was starving. She'd planned on watching Love Actually and having a junk food splurge that night in an effort to boost her spirits until Brennan came back. Grabbing the money she'd left on the table next to the door, she opened her door and felt her mouth open soundlessly in surprise.

Booth was standing in her doorway, his hair disheveled, a large duffel bag in one hand. He was wearing a plain black t-shirt and jeans, runners on his feet. There was a look in his eyes that was a strange mixture of anger, fear, and worry.

"Booth?" she managed to get out.

"My flight leaves in two hours. Exactly where in Kosovo is she, Angela?"

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_Mwahahaha! I am once again queen of the evil cliffhanger ending. I do apologize for how long this chapter is but I wanted to make up for the last one. And Booth was just so persistent in wanting to know where Brennan was and I couldn't keep him in suspense any longer. Promise the next chapter will be even bigger and better. Hope the edges of your seats haven't worn off just yet 'cause you'll need them. But enough of that. What did you think of this chapter? Good, bad, or ambivalent, let me know. The button is just there._


	6. Unexpected

Tremendous thanks for the spectacular reviews! You guys are really awesome. And congrats on breaking the 100 mark. Hope you enjoy this next bit just as much.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize is not mine. If they were mine, the second season of Bones would have started already.

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**Ch. 6 – Unexpected**

After the initial shock of being tackled to the ground from behind by what felt like a very large man, Brennan immediately acted instinctually. She delivered a sharp elbow to his solar plexus and heard the expected gush of air. She then utilized a particularly painful pressure point in his thumb in order to get him to release her. She then flipped them both over and sat on his chest, holding the man's wrists tightly.

"Ok, that's a little over the top for defense, don't you think?" the man managed to gasp out.

Brennan stared at the man in surprise and a confused frown crossed her face, "What do you mean, defense?"

The man stared up at her for a moment and understanding expression dawned on him, "Oh man. You're not playing, are you?"

"Playing what?"

"Football. A bunch of us decided to play since the rain stopped."

Brennan looked up and saw a group of men and a few women standing a hundred feet away, watching the pair on the ground. She spotted one man spinning a football in one hand. Embarrassment slowly settled in.

"You thought I was playing football."

"Yeah, when I saw you running so fast for our end zone I thought you had the ball. It is kind of dark."

"Yes, it is," Brennan said quietly and got up off the ground and then helped her companion up as well.

"I'm sorry I tackled you," the man offered.

"It's fine. I'm sorry I…"

"No problem," the man interrupted and then wiped some mud off his cheek. "You're welcome to join us if you'd like."

"No thanks. I should go clean up and eat. I have an early start tomorrow."

"Alright, well, it was nice to meet you," the man offered, a wry smile on his face and it quickly dawned on Brennan that he was now flirting with her. "It's not too often I meet a girl who can level me. Maybe I'll see you again sometime soon?"

"Probably not. Have a nice evening," Brennnan replied, using an even, professional tone.

"You too," the man called out from behind her as she began jogging back towards the school.

As she ran, she could feel the cool mud on her pants and shirt. She could feel some of it beginning to dry on her check and the end of her now wet ponytail slapped harshly against her neck. Nearing the entrance of the building she saw to her chagrin that both Jamie and Luke were standing there, examining the sky for more clouds. Fifty feet away, she slowed to a walk and approached the pair. As she crossed the threshold she could see the questioning looks on their faces.

Jamie opened his mouth to ask the question that was on both their minds but Brennan interrupted him before he could speak.

"Don't ask. I'll be back in twenty minutes."

The pair watched the very muddy forensic anthropologist walk down the hallway, her head held high. Another one of the officers from their group approached them from behind. Spotting Brennan he let out a low whistle.

"There was mud wrestling? How did I miss that?"

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Angela stared at the FBI agent in her doorway. He returned her gaze steadily, his eyes unreadable and no hint of a smile on his face. When she remained silent, he repeated his question.

"Angela, where is she?" his voice was more intense this time.

Angela opened and closed her mouth several times and then spotted the delivery guy coming down the hall. Grasping Booth's arm, she pulled him inside her apartment. Paying the teenager holding the box of pizza who continued to gape at the large somewhat angry man standing in her living room until she closed the door, she leaned against the door and let out a deep breath. It was at that moment that she realized she was in flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt that read: "Not everything is flat in Kansas".

"C'mon Ange, I don't have all night. I need you to tell me exactly where she is. Once my flight gets in at Pristina I need to know where to go."

Angela stared at him blankly for a moment, "How did you find out? Did Goodman tell you?"

"No. There was a message on her machine from Russ. He mentioned Kosovo."

"Russ," she said quietly, nodding her head. "The only other person who knew."

"Yeah, well, not anymore. I found out the big fat secret and now I need to go over there and bring her ass back here."

"She's coming back in two days. What's the rush?"

Booth gave Angela a look and she suddenly realized just how bad it was to stand between him and what he felt he needed to do. Brennan had underestimated Booth's overprotective streak and standing face to face with it, Angela suddenly wished her friend hadn't left her with the job of attempting to sway him. She made one last attempt.

"She left you a note," Angela blurted out

Booth cocked his head and gazed at her in a way that demanded action. Turning to the coat rack next to the door, Angela removed the envelope she'd put in her jacket pocket earlier that day. She quickly handed it to the suspicious agent.

Booth stared at the envelope for a moment. Similar to the card that Brennan had left on her kitchen table, it too had his name scrawled across it in thick, certain, black strokes that stood out starkly against the white paper. He tore it open and pulled out the folded sheet within that was covered with her familiar handwriting.

_Booth-_

_If you're reading this you've discovered that I'm in Kosovo. First, let me congratulate you on succeeding in your investigation. Apparently I am not as good at subterfuge as I originally thought. Second, I must apologize for abusing your trust. I know our partnership and our friendship are based entirely on trust and I violated it by lying to you. The regret I feel over that is beyond words. But I did it for you._

_I'm sure you just made that disgusted and disbelieving snort sound that you seem so fond of but let me explain. When I was asked to go to Kosovo I immediately wanted to consult you. But then I remembered everything you'd told me about your time there. Those memories are extremely painful for you and I didn't want to cause those to resurface unnecessarily. I knew that you would insist on coming with me (being the predictable overprotective, alpha male personality that you are) and I didn't want to have you relive everything you experienced. I was attempting to be thoughtful and considerate and hopefully I've succeeded._

_I reassure you that I will be fine during the time I spend there. I will have two army captains escorting me at all times. They will be armed. And as you know, I am perfectly capable of defending myself in almost any situation. I implore you not to overreact and jump on a plane to bring me back to D.C. Seeley, I'm asking you as your friend, please don't come._

_Temperance_

Angela watched her best friend's partner as he finished reading the note and carefully refolded it. Sliding it back into the envelope, he put it in the back pocket of his jeans. His expression seemed almost sad, there was understanding in his eyes, and a soft smile played at the edges of his mouth. But then it all quickly disappeared and once again a blank expression met her eyes.

"It's a nice attempt, but it's not going to work," he said quietly. "Now where is she, Ange? I need to know," his voice almost pleaded with her at the end.

Angela studied his face, torn between the wishes of her best friend and the feeling in her gut that telling Booth was the best thing she could do. It was the flicker of raw pain and desperation that she saw in his dark eyes that pushed her over the edge.

She answered at almost a whisper, "Bren's in an army compound near Mount Kilasnikov. The remains were found on the mountain."

Booth closed his eyes and relief swept across his face.

"I know exactly how to get there," he said lowly.

"Booth, there are some other things you should know," Angela called as the agent strode towards her apartment door. He turned around to face her quickly.

"Like what?" he asked suspiciously.

"Like the woman that you saw on the news that you thought was Bren? It was."

"You mean she was on the plane that…"

"Yes."

Booth's eyes narrowed, "What else?"

Angela quickly related everything she knew about the rockslide and the threatening note that had been left for Brennan. The more she talked, the more Booth's anger increased. When she finished, she sat down gently on the chair that sat in her front hall and watched him try to calm himself down.

"There are days I want to throttle her," he said quietly. "She's so damn stupid and reckless sometimes. And it scares me to death," he added quietly.

"I know," Angela murmured softly.

Booth's gaze met that of the dark-eyed artist and he found understanding there and all the reassurances that couldn't be spoken. Indications that someday Brennan would understand why he needed to be with her all the time. Why he felt like he couldn't breathe at this moment because she was in danger and he wasn't there to protect her.

Running his hand over his face, he picked up his duffel bag from where he'd dropped it next to the door.

"Bring her home safe and alive," Angela said quietly as she followed him to the door.

"I'm gonna try. Heaven knows that with Bones though, I only have a 50/50 chance."

Angela smiled at the attempted joke but the knowledge was in both their eyes that it was frighteningly true.

"Have a good flight."

"Thanks."

Booth opened the door and then turned to lean against the frame, "And thanks Ange, for telling me. I just, I need her…"

"I know. Now go get her."

Angela watched the agent walk down the hall with purpose. Closing the door behind her she picked up the pizza and the phone. No harm in warning Bren that the man she had done everything to prevent from coming was on his way.

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Brennan slid into the back of the white jeep and buckled in. Jamie and Luke had arrived before her as she had been busy setting her satellite phone up to recharge. She'd forgotten to do so the night before and hoped she hadn't missed any calls. Setting her pack full of supplies on the floor next to her feet and then stretching one last time, she settled in for the hour and a half drive with the pair to the mountain. Jamie peered over his shoulder at her and grinned. She smiled back but then stopped when she saw the two rifles resting against his leg.

"What are those?" she asked.

"Dr. Brennan, I'd think that with all of that there book learnin' you got, you could tell a rifle out when you saw one," Jamie said in a hillbilly accent.

Brennan attempted to smother a laugh and failed. After recovering, she once again turned serious, "Why are you carrying them? Your sidearms aren't enough anymore?"

"Major Spencer's orders. Since you were threatened we need to take more considerable firepower with us when we leave the compound."

Brennan nodded and turned to watch the scenery bounce past as they drove away from the schoolyard and towards the mountains on the horizon.

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Booth strode through the last set of security barricades and was handed his gun by the Air Marshall. The man smiled at him.

"Have a pleasant trip, Agent Booth."

"Thanks."

Booth pushed through the crowd and attempted to forget the sight of the still damaged airport terminal from his mind. He emerged into the general receiving area and his well-trained eyes searched the crowd for the familiar face who'd said he'd be there. He broke into a smile when he spotted him.

"Brad!" he called out.

A sandy-haired, green-eyed man turned towards the sound of his voice and split into a grin when he spotted Booth.

"Seeley, you son-of-a-bitch," he greeted as they did a handshake-hug. "It has been far too long."

"And whose fault is that? You're stateside, what, maybe three weeks in a year. By the time I've found out you're in the country, you're gone again already."

"Ok fine. So, you need a lift?"

"Yeah."

"No one wants me for me anymore," Brad teased, "It's always about the chopper now."

Booth laughed, "Brad, it's always been about the chopper."

"Yeah," the other man agreed in a mock-sad tone. He then brightened suddenly, "Well, shall we get out of here? The medical supplies I'm supposed to deliver to that compound should be almost loaded by now."

"Yeah, let's go," Booth said, gesturing for the helicopter pilot to lead. Brad had flown choppers for the air force the entire time Booth had known him. He'd mostly done med evac work and medical deliveries although he did transport troops from one spot to another on occasion. Booth had met the good-humored man when an operation in the gulf had gone sideways. Brad had picked his small group of snipers up out of the middle of nowhere and the two had kept in touch ever since.

They drove through downtown Pristina to a U.N. compound near the former town hall. The large field behind the building held Brad's chopper and as promised the supply jeeps were driving away empty. Brad checked in with his C.O. and then prepared for take-off, Booth on his heels. Stepping up into the sleek, red helicopter, the FBI agent fastened his seatbelt and put on his headset. Brad completed his pre-flight checklist and started the rotors.

As they rose up from the ground, Booth felt the ball of worry that had been gnawing at his gut since he'd listened to Russ' message intensify tenfold. Something about the whole situation left him frightened to his core and he was even more anxious to reach Brennan. He knew in his gut that she needed him, whether she thought so or not.

Brad's voice crackled through his headphones, "Forty-five minutes or so and I'll have you at your destination."

"Good," Booth said quietly, "I hope it's soon enough."

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Brennan stood up, stretched and then let out a small, relieved sigh. The plastic sheet she'd set up over the remains had protected them from the downpour of the day before. After digging for almost two hours she had completely revealed the full skeleton of an adult male, dog tags secured around his neck. And much to her great relief, as well as Jamie and Luke's, there had not been another skull next to his shoulder.

She had collected all the necessary samples from around the remains and had prepared them for the hike back down the mountain. She took a deep breath of the fresh, clean air and relished her last time on this otherwise peaceful and serene hillside. The grass was almost too green for this time of year and Brennan basked in the warm sun on her skin. Jamie and Luke wandered towards her.

"Ready to go, Dr. Brennan?" Jamie asked.

Temperance closed her eyes for a moment and then reopened them.

"I'm ready," she answered.

Jamie nodded and crouched to open his bag and remove the stretcher for the remains. Brennan turned her gaze over Luke's left shoulder at a particularly intriguing rock formation and then she met the younger man's gaze. He was frowning at her.

"Luke, what's wrong?"

"Is there something on your forehead?"

Brennan reached up to brush her hand across her face but before she could, she heard the loud retort of gunfire and Luke was pushing her to the ground but not before something tore through her left shoulder, leaving behind a trail of white-hot pain. The anthropologist collided harshly with the ground and immediately pulled her knees up under chin as Booth had taught her to do if taking fire and there was no cover nearby. She felt a sharp and intense pain suddenly erupt in her right shin.

Through the fuzziness of shock she realized that she'd been hit again. She watched as Jamie and Luke opened fire with their rifles. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion and all the sound seemed to have disappeared. Biting her lip, thoughts of Booth suddenly entered into her mind. She suddenly wished she hadn't lied. Wished she hadn't made sure he wouldn't find out where she was. Because right now she needed him more than anything else.

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_So, what did you think? I'd love any comments, suggestions, bribes or anything else you care to send my way. It makes my muse and I so happy. And it appeases the queen of evil cliffhangers who comes to visit me every now and then. You know what button to push._


	7. Deliverance from Above

Ok, no amount of apologizing can make up for just how long it took me to update this. Hope it was worth the wait. And I must add that your reviews were truly amazing and I appreciated each and every one.

Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine. Anything that you don't recognize isn't theirs.

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**Ch. 7 – Deliverance from Above**

Sound came roaring back suddenly to Temperance's ears. The sharp, harsh sound of gunfire from Jamie and Luke's guns was almost too loud and she felt herself cringing at each retort. It seemed ages passed as they emptied their guns in the direction of the shots that had come her way. Finally, they stopped and the silence that followed was deafening. She could hear the blood pumping in her ears and she wondered if her heartbeat was audible to the pair of men lying stretched out before her, their guns still aimed at the rock formation she'd been admiring only minutes before. After waiting a few minutes to determine if there would be any more attacks from their unseen shooter, the pair stood up. Luke immediately went towards the shelter that the shooter had used. Jamie turned towards her and she watched him stare at her in shock.

The pain from the wound in her shoulder throbbed insistently; she could feel blood pouring out of it and seeping into her shirt, leaving it warm and sticky. The shot in her leg had resulted in a much sharper pain that seemed to close out all other sensation although Brennan was vaguely aware of the sensation of moisture from the blood she was losing there as well.

Jamie opened and closed his mouth soundlessly several times in succession and Brennan was oddly reminded of the goldfish she'd had for three weeks when she was nine. Jamie finally found his voice and then he began shouting, loudly, in a voice roughened by fear, "Luke! Luke! LUKE!"

Luke turned and his gaze went from the petrified, white face of his partner to the forensic anthropologist still lying on the ground bleeding. For a moment his mind went blank with shock and then he realized that there was no one there to help her except them for the moment and that the longer he stood there staring at her, the more time she was losing. He quickly jogged over the uneven terrain towards the downed woman. He knelt down beside her and, with Jamie's help, slowly rolled her onto her back.

"Dr. Brennan?" he asked gently.

"Yes," she replied, the word coming out harshly, her pain audible.

"How much can you tell me about your injuries?"

"Wound… in the shoulder. Through and through. Shot in the leg. I think… I think the bullet may have frac… fractured and lodged itself in… my tibia," Brennan recited as though she were making a report about a set of remains on her examination table at the Jeffersonian.

"Alright," Luke said, a million thoughts rushing through his mind. "Alright," he said again.

Jamie stared at her, his eyes still wide, his face pale. His hands were shaking as he pulled off his jacket and pressed it to the hole in her shoulder. His eyes met hers and she attempted to smile in order to reassure him but it quickly turned into a grimace as a fresh wave of pain rolled over her. Turning her gaze back to Luke she found his face set in determination, an expression she found reassuring.

Luke stood up and sliding off his own pack pulled out a t-shirt and tore a long strip off of it. Kneeling down next to Brennan, he wrapped it tightly around her wounded leg several times and then knotted it in a makeshift tourniquet. He then replaced Jamie's hands on her shoulder with his own and quietly told the other man to finish assembling the stretcher.

Brennan absently watched his face as he knelt over her. She forced out her demand quickly, "We're taking the bones with us."

Luke looked down at her confused, her statement having nothing to do with all the thoughts rushing through his brain.

"What?"

"The bones. They have to come… with us. Can't leave them… to be… destroyed."

Luke quickly caught up to the anthropologist's train of thoughts. Through her pain she was still thinking about the importance of the skeletal remains she had just finished unearthing. If they left them on the mountainside there was good chance that the shooter, wherever he'd gone, would either take them or destroy them.

"How do we take them with us?"

"On stretcher," she hissed out, her eyes now closed against the pain.

"Dr. Brennan, you're going on the stretcher."

"With me," the anthropologist insisted, the steel evident in her voice.

Luke stared at the stretcher Jamie was assembling. There would be room for both the injured woman and the remains that she'd prepared for transport but the remains would have to lie almost entirely on top of her.

"Dr. Brennan, are you sure…?"

"Yes," she said firmly, her eyes a determined icy blue.

"Ok, you're the boss," Luke replied, attempting to lighten the moment.

A ghost of a smile crossed Brennan's face before she again closed her eyes against the pain and pressed her lips together until they were white. Luke glanced up at Jamie who nodded that the stretcher was ready. He picked it up on one side and brought it to the pair on the ground. Lying it next to Temperance, he then crouched down on the same side as Luke, near her knees.

"Ok Temperance, we're going to move you onto the stretcher but I need you to do something for me," Luke said.

"You called me Temperance," the anthropologist murmured.

"Yes, I did. You can file a report on my violation of protocol later but right now…"

"What do I need… to do?"

"You need to apply pressure to that wound in your shoulder for us, ok?" Luke asked, lifting Brennan's hand up to replace his two on her shoulder. Her fingers tightened on the fabric, and Luke momentarily squeezed her hand lightly before turning his attention to Jamie.

"On the count of three. One, two, three."

* * *

Booth stared out the window at the ground passing below him. The letter from Brennan was still in the back pocket of his jeans, well-worn after the countless times he'd read it on the plane and now random phrases from it ran through his mind. He could almost hear her voice and it kept whispering his name. Shaking his head, he refocused his gaze on the ground and spotted a white jeep speeding along what he assumed to be a bumpy road.

_Booth gritted his teeth as the jeep dropped into another massive pothole and then turned with a wide grin towards Hank who sat beside him on the seat looking slightly ill. Booth caught the other man's gaze and couldn't help but laugh before they were assaulted by yet another bone-jarring rattle of their military jeep. He let out a sigh of relief as he caught sight of the compound ahead of them._

_He'd volunteered to go with the two army corporals assigned to pick up his friend but now he wished he'd remained at the camp instead. He wasn't entirely sure he'd ever stop vibrating. As the jeep jerked to a halt alongside the small group of other vehicles already collected on the fringe of the encampment, both men let out sighs of relief._

_Hank swung out of one side and Booth grabbed one of his bags as the pair headed towards the small shack that had been provided for them. Booth whistled absent-mindedly and waved at the familiar face of the small girl who still clung to her doll standing on the border of the camp. Hank glanced in her direction and a ghost of a smile danced across his face for a few seconds. Both men treasured the rare moments of purity that they encountered. Staring down the scope of the rifle for a living rarely gave them a chance to see anything but the scum of the earth and their horrible final moments._

"_You know Booth, you could just go home now. Obviously, they'll know a quality shot when they see one and once they've seen me they won't need you," Hank teased._

"_I see your ego hasn't shrunk any," Booth chuckled._

"_Seriously, do you know why they called use here?" Hank asked._

"_No. We're supposed to be briefed on it this afternoon. Just enough time for you to take one of your old man naps," Booth said with a laugh._

"_Mock my naps now, but you'll regret not having one yourself later."_

"_Sure."_

Booth shook his head to clear it of the ghostly images from his past. He couldn't help but think that Bones had been right after all. This country was bringing back memories he had no desire to remember.

* * *

Temperance strove to remember a time when she hadn't felt such overwhelming pain and couldn't. Her brain was completely absorbed by the constant waves of agony that continued to roll over her, although she did notice the fringe sensation of feeling colder despite the sun beating down upon her warmly. She bit her lip hard as Jamie stumbled slightly over a small root.

Luke sighed in relief when he caught sight of the white jeep up ahead. They had descended the mountain in record time, somehow turning the half hour hike into a fifteen-minute high-speed trek.

He turned to speak over his shoulder, "We're almost there, Temperance."

He couldn't tell if the forensic anthropologist made any sign of acknowledgement of his statement. She'd grown increasingly quiet and he noticed her lower lip was raw, red, and bleeding from where she'd bitten down on it against the pain. Her skin was an alarming shade of white and he hurried his pace toward the ever-nearer jeep.

Finally arriving at the white beacon that had been his sole goal, he and Jamie gently set the litter on the ground. They removed the skeletal remains that had lain atop her during their hike down and gingerly placed them in the trunk space of the jeep. The pair of army captains then turned to the woman who was still lying on the ground. Luke noted with alarm that she was beginning to shiver slightly.

"She's going into shock," he whispered to Jamie, the fear evident in his voice.

Jamie felt his stomach churn and realized that their time was running out quickly.

Luke crouched down near Brennan's head and spoke lowly, "Ok Temperance. We're going to have do this again."

"Do what?" she asked, her voice sounding distant.

"We're going to lift you into the jeep."

"Mmm," the anthropologist murmured and then started to say something incomprehensible.

"Ready Jamie?" Luke said, turning his attention to his other companion, who nodded roughly.

They hoisted the small woman into the back of the jeep, where Luke remained with her, cradling her head and applying even pressure to the wound in her shoulder that continued to bleed at a frightening rate. Jamie in turn quickly dragged the stretcher into the passenger seat and then slid into the driver seat himself. Turning the engine over and hitting the gas pedal, he simultaneously reached for the radio.

"Attention headquarters, we are in need of an immediate med-evac. One woman, shot twice. We are heading south towards the compound near Mount Kilasnikov. Request rendez-vous with chopper en route. I repeat, we need an immediate med-evac."

* * *

Booth started as the radio in the cockpit crackled to life.

"Base to chopper 2417, what is your location?"

Brad answered quickly and the pair waited as the silent remained silent for almost a minute.

"Chopper 2417, we are re-routing you for an emergency med-evac. We have one man, shot twice. They're headed south towards Camp Big K traveling by jeep. Please pick them up immediately and fly to the hospital in Pristina."

"10-4 base. Chopper 2417 changing course now."

Brad shot an apologetic glance towards his friend, "Sorry Booth, you're going to have to wait just a little bit longer before you can meet up with your bone lady."

Booth nodded understandingly, "This guy needs us. Let's go."

Brad grinned as he swerved the chopper further north to intercept the jeep racing towards the camp.

* * *

Luke squeezed Brennan's shoulder tighter. His hands were slippery with her blood and he felt her cool, clammy skin beneath his. It seemed like weeks since they'd left the mountain and every jolt from the road made the lump in his throat jump higher. He couldn't remember when the woman in his arms had begun to mutter feverishly but it frightened him to his core. He knew that once she went into shock there was a good chance she would die before she got to a doctor.

"Polo. Polo. I'm sorry… so sorry, Booth. Booth. Booth. Booth."

That one word had crossed her lips an uncountable number of times during their short drive. He didn't know what it meant but she had been apologizing, pleading, and weeping for that one word. Her eyelids fluttered open and closed every few minutes and her piercing blue gaze that stared at nothing frightened him almost as much as the growing blossom of crimson that was soaking through her clothes.

He heard Jamie let out a whoosh of breath and then heard the familiar beat of helicopter rotors coming towards them. He too let out a sigh of relief and patted the woman's good shoulder lightly.

"Hang on," he whispered, "we're getting closer."

* * *

Booth waited until Brad had set the chopper down perpendicular to the oncoming jeep before he leapt out of his seat and opened the side door and hung his head out. He watched as the driver jumped out quickly and wrestled a stretcher from the passenger seat. He then approached the back seat of the vehicle and he and another man lifted the wounded individual up and onto the stretcher. For a brief moment he thought he saw a familiar flash of auburn, which caused the gnawing ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach to return, but he deemed it irrational and waited for the pair with the injured man between them to approach the chopper.

Standing half bent over in the opening in the side of the chopper, the FBI agent watched as the pair grew closer, the panic and fear evident in their every step. He'd been in their shoes more times than he cared to count and he knew just how much of a relief the big red chopper appeared. The man at the head end of the stretcher finally approached the door and he turned round and awkwardly hopped up into the helicopter. Booth focused on keeping the man from falling over and losing his grip on the stretcher while also making sure that there would be enough room for all four of them in the main part of the chopper in amongst the medical supplies. It was not until the second man had climbed inside that Booth turned for his first glimpse of the injured man.

It was at that moment his world stopped. Lying there before him was the subject of hundreds of nightmares that had haunted his nights after particularly dangerous cases. The familiar, delicate, feminine features were a shocking shade of white set against the auburn hair that he'd dreamt of running his fingers through.

All of the breath in his lungs rushed out of his mouth and he barely managed to gasp, "Bones."

* * *

_Sorry to leave it hanging there. I promise (really, I do) to have some more up very soon. I'm on Winter Break so I have plenty of times. But your comments, suggestions, bribes and anything else you care to throw my way will definitely motivate me to write faster. So what are you waiting for? Hit that button and review!_


	8. Frightened to the Bone

After all of the threats, bribes, and glowing comments I received (thank you all) I just had to write more. Hope you enjoy this. And congrats on breaking the 200 mark.

Disclaimer: They're not mine. Maybe I'll get them for Christmas. But it's not too likely.

* * *

**Ch. 8 - Frightened to the Bone**

All of the air rushed out of his mouth and he barely managed to gasp, "Bones."

Booth reached out a hand and unthinkingly traced the line of her jaw. He was alarmed at how cool and clammy her skin felt against his. Out of the corner of his eye he barely noticed the second of the two men hop out again and run at full tilt back towards the jeep. The jacket pressed against Brennan's shoulder was soaked through with blood and he quickly removed it, replacing it with a thick pad of gauze he'd grabbed from one of the nearby boxes of medical supplies.

"Where the hell is he going?" Booth shouted to the man crouched on the other side of Brennan, who was removing the tourniquet around her leg and applying pressure to the wound there.

"To get the bones."

"What do you mean? She's right here."

"No, the bones are still in the back of the jeep."

"Wait, you have _remains _with you?"

"Yes."

"How the hell did you bring them down?"

"On top of her."

Booth gave the younger man a glare that would have incinerated him had such things been possible.

Luke in return quickly jumped to his own defense, "She insisted we bring them with us."

Booth turned back to look into the face of his partner, "You would do that, wouldn't you, Temperance?"

At her name, the forensic anthropologist suddenly focused her gaze on the familiar face hovering above her own. Her lips moved but she made no sound. Bringing his ear closer to her mouth Booth pleaded gently, "Try that again, Bones."

In a voice barely above a hoarse whisper she managed to force out a brief, "I'm so sorry Seeley."

Booth grasped her right hand tightly in one of his and trying to swallow the fear out of his voice he said, "Don't apologize to me, Temperance. Just focus on me. Stay with me and I'll get you through this. I promise. You just have to do your share. You're a good partner and I couldn't bear to have to train a new squint to act like you."

A brief flash of anger flared in Brennan's eyes but the corners of her mouth pulled up slightly as she realized what he was trying to do.

She attempted to tug Booth back to where he could hear her but she barely managed to squeeze his hand. He quickly understood her intentions and bent over her again. Her voice was barely audible above the roar of the rotors, "I'm fighting, Booth. But I'm so… tired."

Booth swallowed hard around the lump of fear in his throat and attempted to speak but was interrupted by the return of the other man; the remains safely nestled in his arms. The FBI agent turned towards the cockpit and shouted for Brad to take off. He then grabbed another pack of gauze and tossed it towards the man holding a t-shirt to his partner's leg.

"Use this, it's sterile," he barked. He then grabbed another package for himself as the fabric he was holding to her shoulder himself was almost completely soaked through. If she kept bleeding like this… he refused to finish the thought. Instead he quickly sent up a prayer asking for her to make it through this. He quickly made the sign of the cross and bent low over Brennan when she again squeezed his hand, the pressure even lighter this time.

"Are you… giving me… the last rites?"

"You know I wouldn't give up on you like that Bones. Plus, only a priest can give last rites."

"Just… checking."

Booth smiled at her in what he hoped was a reassuring manner but he could feel his fear hovering just on the fringes of his control. The only thing keeping it in check was the loose grip with which she held his hand. Her skin was cool and clammy on his and Booth remembered from his last first-aid course that the best thing he could do for someone in shock, while waiting for medical treatment, was to keep her warm.

Booth turned a fierce gaze on the man who'd gone to retrieve the remains, "You, Captain."

"Captain Jamie Sommers, sir."

"Captain Sommers, cover Dr. Brennan with that blanket over your right shoulder."

"Yes, sir."

Jamie draped the blanket over the forensic anthropologist, making sure to keep it clear of the wounds to which Luke and the unknown man were applying pressure. He watched the older man as he conversed quietly with Dr. Brennan and held her small hand tightly in his own larger one. Jamie, in attempt to distract himself from the dire nature of their situation, guessed at the nature of their relationship. Dr. Brennan would have mentioned a husband, he was sure, and so he guessed that perhaps they were engaged or at the very least a long-term couple. He was shaken from his musings when the man began to speak harshly.

"Bones. Bones! Temperance! Look at me. C'mon. Damn it Temperance, don't you dare give up on me!"

Booth felt the panic welling up as Brennan's eyelids began to flutter closed and the grip on his hand weakened. He continued to shout at her, demanding that she give him just a little bit more effort.

"Temperance Brennan I did not fly half way across the world just to let you die. Look at me, damn you!"

The eyelids fluttered open again and the grasp on his hand tightened slightly, but her gaze now focused at some point beyond his left shoulder.

"Polo," she muttered lightly.

Booth recalled the moment between Temperance and her brother on the fairgrounds in North Carolina to which he had pretended to be oblivious.

"Ok, Temperance, we'll do it your way," he muttered. Then sucking in a deep breath he let out the two syllables she seemed to need at that moment, "Marco."

"Polo," she repeated. She paused again and then began to mutter something else; the only part of which he understood was his own surname.

Squeezing her hand tightly in his and readjusting the gauze he was holding to her shoulder he again tried to swallow the lump in his throat.

"I'm here, Temperance. Just hang on a little bit longer for me, please."

* * *

It seemed weeks between when Temperance had been pulled into the chopper by the two captains whom Booth had barely acknowledged and when the helicopter finally landed on the roof of the military hospital in Pristina. Captain Sommers swung open the door for the waiting medical team who quickly jogged over, ducking beneath the rotors, and orchestrated lifting the injured woman from the stretcher onto the waiting gurney. A young army doctor replaced Booth's hand on the wound in Brennan's shoulder, but the Special Agent refused to let go of his partner's hand. 

"Sir, we've got it from here," one doctor shouted to him over the thumping roar of the rotors still churning the air above them.

Booth quickly cast about in his mind for any lie that would let him spend the most time possible with Bones before he had to completely leave her alone in the hands of doctors.

"I'm her husband," he said harshly, hoping Brennan would forgive him for the lie later. "I'm not leaving her until I have to."

The doctor nodded and the team jogged into the waiting elevator. Booth tuned out the techno-speak that flowed over him and the woman he was still holding onto for dear life. Her eyes continued to flutter open and closed, the pupils unfocused.

"C'mon Bones, you just gotta hang on a little bit longer for me," he murmured gently.

For a moment he thought he was hallucinating when he felt her squeeze his hand lightly in reassurance but when he turned his gaze to meet hers she had again focused on him.

"Thank you," she whispered, "thank you… for everything. And I'm sorry about…"

She trailed off, her eyes fluttered shut, and she didn't open them again although her chest continued to move rhythmically up and down.

"Damn you, Temperance. You do not get to say goodbye. Not now," Booth said emphatically, his eyes burning with all of the pent-up emotions that were threatening to overflow.

The elevator doors opened and the gurney rushed along down endless corridors until they arrived at a pair of glass and steel double doors. At that point one of the doctors stopped and put a restraining hand on Booth's arm.

"Sir, you can't go beyond this point. We need to take your wife into emergency surgery. We'll let you know how she's doing as soon as we can."

Booth stared at the smaller man and weighed the option of socking him just for the pleasure of being able to do something, to be able to spend another few minutes with the woman who meant so much to him. Deciding it was probably better not to deprive Bones of a doctor she might need, he nodded in defeat and watched with slumped shoulders as the doctor hurried through the double doors as well, leaving him alone.

A nurse in pink scrubs bustled up to him shortly afterwards.

"Excuse me, sir. We need some information about your wife."

Booth thought of all the tiny details he'd absorbed about the woman who'd just been rushed away. How she liked her coffee with one sugar and just a little bit of cream. How her eyes could be an icy blue or sometimes appear to be a singular shade of green. How her hands always managed to land on her hips whenever she was arguing with him. The way her whole face lit up when she smiled. The scent of her hair. Millions of memories danced through his mind.

"What do you need to know?"

"Her name would be a good place to start."

"Brennan. Dr Temperance Brennan."

* * *

Booth sat back in the chair and watched as the nurse dashed off with the pint of blood he'd just donated. He accepted the cookie and glass of juice that another nurse handed him and held the small patch of gauze to the inside of his elbow. He'd laughed once at Bones when he'd discovered that they were both O negative. It was the only test they'd ever get the same grade on he'd teased her. Now he wasn't entirely sure he'd ever get to see her wry smile again. 

Standing up slowly he wandered out of the impromptu blood clinic they'd set up in an employee lounge and went out into the hallway where he again encountered the two army captains that had carried Bones into Brad's chopper.

"Where are the remains?" he demanded of the darker haired man. Sommers, he remembered. Jamie Sommers.

"The morgue. They promised to leave them undisturbed until Dr Brennan can give them instructions as to what to do."

Booth nodded and his gaze took on a distant look. Bones would be pleased that no one would be messing with her bones. At least he prayed she would be because he couldn't bear to think of what he'd have to do if she didn't… He refused to finish the thought. He refocused on the two men seated before him.

"Which one of you was in charge?" he asked harshly.

"That would be me, sir," the sandy-haired man answered and stood, his eyes almost level with Booth's.

"And you are?"

"Captain Luke Granger, sir."

"How the hell did this happen, Captain Granger? Why is my partner lying in surgery with two bullet wounds?" he demanded angrily.

"It happened so fast…" Luke said slowly. He was haunted by all of the images that were running in a continuous loop through his head.

"It always does," Booth muttered quietly and collapsed into a chair next to the one Captain Granger had vacated.

Luke sat back down next to him and noted the fear that was etched into every line of the face of the man seated next to him.

"If you don't mind my asking, sir," he said, "who are you? How do you know Dr Brennan?"

"I'm Special Agent Seeley Booth. I'm Temperance's… partner."

"But you told the doctor…"

"A lie so that I can get all the information I need," Booth replied harshly.

"Yes, sir," Luke replied, unnerved by the anger floating just below the surface of the agent's steely exterior.

"I need you to tell me everything that happened while Bones was your responsibility Captain."

"Yes, sir."

Luke swallowed hard and prepared to relate every detail the FBI agent felt he was entitled to when they were interrupted by the arrival of one of the young army doctors.

"Doctor?" Booth asked, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. "Is everything alright?"

"Dr Brennan was severely injured. The wound in her shoulder nicked an artery that we need to repair and she's lost a lot of blood. The wound in her leg is also more complicated then we originally thought. The bullet fractured when it impacted with the tibia. We're in the process of removing the fragments but there is a complication. One of the small pieces of the bullet managed to pierce a blood vessel and we need to find and remove it before it can travel to her heart. You need to prepare yourselves for a long wait, this surgery is going to take several hours."

Booth watched the retreating back of the doctor and once again pushed down all of his fear. It wouldn't do Bones any good if he lost it and was thrown out of the hospital for breaking several pieces of furniture. And quite possibly the appendages of the two men that had let his forensic anthropologist get shot.

"Alright, Captain Granger, from the beginning please."

* * *

_There you are. Another chapter done. Now it's time for you to do your part. Let me know what you think. Feel free to send suggestions, bribes, and whatever else you think might motivate me to write quickly after you hit that tiny button._


	9. Reflections

sheepishly holds up world's worst updater award Ok there are almost no excuses for just how horribly bad I have been at updating this story. Except for the whole I'm in school thing and all of my writing energies have been turned toward writing papers for the last few months. However, there is light at the end of tunnel. This late little Easter present will have to hold you over until the end of April when exams are over. Then I will return to updating regularly. And before you scoff at what regular updating can mean for a girl who hasn't updated in almost four months, I promise that once I'm done school for the year that you will get at least one chapter a week. As long as my muse doesn't wander off. At any rate, enjoy!

Disclaimer: I'm running out of ways to say they aren't mine.

* * *

**Ch. 9 – Reflections**

Booth closed his eyes as he leaned his head back against the wall behind him. The details of Granger's story whirled through his mind too fast for him to grasp. He tried to think of something else that would clear his head so that he could focus but the only thing that came to the forefront was an image of Bones, her face a shocking shade of white against her auburn hair. Suddenly his own words came back to him from before she had left asking her if she remembered her previous vacation in New Orleans. The image of her seated on the doctor's examination table, her bare feet dangling over the edge, battered and bruised on every visible inch of skin was still vivid in his memory. It was quickly followed by his recollection of the documentary photos the police had taken that he had obtained without her knowledge. Those images still haunted his nightmares, the images of her bleeding, a dazed look in her eyes.

He knew that now he had a whole new set of images to haunt his nights. His vivid imagination could just picture her there standing on that mountainside, waiting to prepare her bones for transportation. The sniper in him could picture how the shooter might have looked at her staring almost right at him, the sun's rays setting her hair ablaze in a riot of color. How the sniper had waited until her skull was precisely in the center of his crosshairs. His eyes flew open at the thought and he turned to Luke.

"You said there was a laser dot on Brennan's forehead just before the shooting started?" he demanded.

"Yes sir, I couldn't tell what it was at first but then I realized and started to pull her to the ground."

"But it was a laser."

"Yes, sir," Luke said, his brow furrowed questioningly.

"This guy was not a sniper."

"What do you mean? He hit her. Twice."

Booth tried not to flinch at the thought of the bullets tearing through Temperance's soft, white flesh.

"A real sniper uses a scope, not a laser sight. A laser can give your position away before you can get your shot. Besides, if our guy were a true sniper she would have been… dead before you'd seen the laser," Booth said, upset at the thought but his eyes blazing with the victory of starting to determine the nature of the bastard who'd tried to kill his partner. His mind began to churn, settling into investigative mode.

"The other remains that Bones unearthed, are they still at the compound?"

"Yes," Jamie replied, surprised at the sudden change of subject.

"You two need to go back there, get them and bring them back here. If these attempts to scare her off the case are being organized by someone in the compound, those bones aren't safe. And once she's ready, Temperance is going to want those bones at her disposal."

The two captains nodded in agreement and stood.

"You'll make sure we know when she gets out of surgery," Luke stated, issuing an order of his own.

"I will," Booth said, realizing that Bones had charmed the two younger men. Despite her tendency to be unsociable she had managed to gain the affections of the two army captains that stood before him.

"Good. We'll bring the bones back here for her," Luke said and then headed down the hall, Jamie at his side.

Booth watched the two men as they disappeared. They were still willing to follow orders, ready and eager to do what was required of them but the expression on their faces was one he'd seen on his own reflection in the mirror back when he'd served. The shell-shocked expression that would turn into the haunted but stony gaze that he gave when asked about his past.

_Booth gazed unseeingly at his reflection in the rearview mirror on the passenger side of the jeep. Hank was driving the vehicle at a breakneck speed making each jolt that much harsher when they hit potholes. Booth could feel his friend looking him, could feel the concern coming off of him in waves. But somehow he couldn't bring himself to care. Instead all he could seem to focus on was that annoying song that had played over and over during the many hours he had patiently waited for the perfect shot. And the image of that little boy falling next to his father, unaware of what kind of monster had just departed the world, only concerned with loss of the man who was the world to him. The boy's piercing wail had risen up to the rooftop where Booth had lain, freezing him. The horrible sound of the child's keening had combined with the song that had still been playing and now the two sounds were fused together, an inseparable sound loop constantly repeating in his head._

_He didn't know how long he had remained on that rooftop after his deathly accurate shot had left his gun. Maybe it was hours. Maybe it had only been a few minutes. The next thing he knew, Hank had crawled up beside him. He was whispering to him that they should move, should leave before someone figured out where the shot had come from and came after them. Booth had nodded mutely, suddenly aware of the numbness that enveloped him. He wasn't entirely sure of how they had gotten off that roof and out of the village. All he knew was that felt as if he had been sitting in the jeep driving towards camp for an eternity. An eternity that separated him from what had gone before and what would come after. The distance was comforting. Cold, but unbelievably comforting._

_Another bone-rattling pothole sent the jeep careening from the left to the right and then it ground to a halt. Hank swore and hopped out over the door. Booth watched him detachedly, only half of his brain recognizing that this affected him as well._

"_We've got a flat back here," Hank announced. "I'll just change it and then we'll get back to camp for our debriefing."_

_Booth nodded absently and turned to gaze over the pockmarked landscape. Seconds later, he was nearly deafened by the concussion of an explosion directly behind the jeep._

Booth started awake. Back in his army days he had conditioned himself to sleep no matter what his stress levels were. After leaving the service he had thought he'd lost that ability. But now back in a world where name, rank, and serial number were the three most important things to keep in your head and where orders determined your every move, old instincts were kicking in. He surveyed his surroundings without moving his head, another old habit that had fallen into disuse, in an attempt to discover what had awoken him. He spotted the young doctor that had stopped him from going with Bones into surgery talking at a low volume with one of the women at the nurses' station. He watched the pair and attempted to determine if they were talking about his partner. Based on the frequent glances the nurse kept shooting in his direction he assumed they were.

Torn between going up to talk to them and waiting where he was for one of them to come to talk to him he remained rooted where he was. He watched with trepidation as the young doctor approached him.

"Mr. Booth?" he questioned timidly.

"Yes? Do you have news? How is Temperance? How was her surgery? Is she… did she…"

The doctor put up a hand as if to stop the stream words flowing over Booth's lips.

"I do have news. We're just finishing up your wife's surgery now. She did very well and her odds are very good. Her blood loss was significant but we were able to repair the arterial damage. It wasn't as significant as we'd originally thought. We also managed to retrieve all of the bullet fragments from her leg and although she will have to wear a cast for a little while, there should be no permanent damage."

"What about the fragment that split off?" Booth asked, knowing how much damage a small piece of metal let loose inside of someone could do.

"We found it not far from the initial wound and prevented it from doing any significant harm."

"So she's going to be fine?"

"There are a few things we need to watch out for over the next few days but…"

"What things?"

"We need to be concerned about blood clots, they can cause some serious problems if she develops any. Also, since her wounds were exposed to so many different things before she got to the hospital, infection is a major concern. We're going to pump her full of antibiotics in an effort to ward it off but there is still a large chance she could become ill and in her weakened state a minor fever could be very dangerous. We'll be keeping an eye out for any spikes in her temperature and anything else unusual but we're very optimistic. Your wife should make a full recovery."

Booth gave a sigh of relief. While Temperance was still a great distance from being out of the woods, the fact that she had made it through surgery was huge. Breathing a silent prayer of thanks to God, he then stood up slowly.

"When can I see her?"

"She should be in her room in about an hour. She may not wake up for at least a few more hours after that," the doctor cautioned.

"That's fine. I'll be there anyway. Now if you could direct me to a pay phone, I need to make a few calls."

* * *

Angela turned to stare at the phone ringing on her desk. She was on her way out the door of her office, eager to go home and soak in a relaxing tub of hot water and bubbles, secure in the knowledge that her best friend was safe with one very hunky g-man. But now that phone was ringing and each shrill echo made her stomach twist into a tighter anxious knot. Putting her bag down she strode back to her desk and scooped the phone up.

"Hello?"

"Angela," there was a sigh of relief.

"Booth. You sound stressed, is everything ok?"

"Not quite."

"Is she ok?"

"Not really."

Angela dropped into her chair.

"How bad is it? Better or worse than New Orleans?"

"Worse. If it were better do you honestly think I'd be the one calling?"

"Good point. Should I be flying out there right now?"

"No, I've got it handled. Just thought I'd call you and let you know that we won't be flying back home any time soon."

"That bad?"

"They typically don't let you fly for at least a few weeks after you've had major surgery."

"Surgery? What the hell has she gotten herself into?"

"I'm not sure yet. I'm concentrating on getting her through this before we start any investigating. I just wanted to let you know what was going on."

"Thank you. You'll keep me posted?"

"Of course."

"Well I'll let you get back to her. Take care, sweetie. And take care of her."

"I'll do my best."

Angela hung up her phone slowly as tears stung her eyes. Booth had been so cryptic but, reading between the lines, she knew that things were on the verge of dire. She wasn't sure how long she'd been staring at her phone when Jack popped his head into her office.

"Angela?"

"Hmm?"

"I was thinking of stopping by Wong Foo's for a drink before I head home, care to join me?"

"Umm…"

"Ange, are you ok?"

"Not really. That was Booth."

"Ok. I don't see the significance. Booth calls here all the time."

"Yeah, but… this wasn't a normal call. He's in Kosovo. With Bren."

"What?"

"It's a long story with the ending of she just got out of surgery for something major and Booth is wigging out and…" Angela sniffled as tears threatened to overwhelm her. Jack unthinkingly reached out a hand and rubbed reassuring circles on her back.

"Hey, it'll be fine. She's Brennan, she can make it through anything."

Angela looked up at the man beside her and gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes.

"Thanks for the thought," she said, "but I don't know if she can make it through this. Despite what she likes to think, she's not invincible."

* * *

Booth twisted his hands together. After calling Angela and sending a message off to Captains Sommers and Granger, he'd spent a few minutes in the hospital chapel. The smell of candles and the hushed awe that permeated such places had reassured and calmed him. Those few quiet moments had given him the strength to keep going. To get here in front of Brennan's hospital room door. But only to get here apparently. Standing literally only a half dozen feet away from his injured partner he now found himself rooted to the spot. He was petrified of what he would see once he opened that door. Standing in the corridor of a military hospital brought back memories of waiting for other friends. Waiting and never seeing them again.

"You're being irrational" a voice in his head that sounded suspiciously like Bones stated firmly. Realizing he was, in fact, being ridiculous Booth squared his shoulders and slow swung the door open. He took two steps forward and then halted, his breath hitching in his chest.

He'd thought she was pale on the chopper but now her skin was an otherworldly shade of white. Her hair was spread out against the pillow providing a sharp contrast to her complexion. The blankets were pulled up to just below her armpits, her arms above the covers. Several needles connected to tubes protruded from them. There were also wires connected to various monitors exiting the neckline of her hospital gown. A small tube providing nasal oxygen rested across her top lip. Despite the fact that he'd been in a similar position before and had brushed it off as minor, Booth now realized just horribly terrifying it was to stand on the other side of the bed.

Mustering the last of his strength, he crossed the remaining distance from the doorway to the chair next to her bed. He sat there silently for a few minutes, listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, watching her face that was no longer lined with pain. He slowly reached out and took one of her slender hands in his. Her skin was slightly cool against the warmth of his own.

"Hey there, Bones. Listen, I know that ordinarily you'd tear my arm off for even trying to hold your hand but under the circumstances I'm hoping you'll grant me an exception. You see this really keeps me calm and helps me make sure that you're still here. That you're still alive. And maybe it'll help you too. You know, knowing that someone's here. That there's something worth coming back for. So you can rest for a little while, 'cause I know those drugs they gave you really knocked you out, but after those wear off I'd really appreciate it if you could wake up. Just so I can make sure you're really ok. Because that would really help me out."

Booth leaned back slightly in his chair and watched his partner's chest rise and fall in an even pattern, taking comfort in the fact that the worst of this ordeal was over. At least he desperately hoped that this was the worst of it because he wasn't sure he could handle much more. Leaning back in his chair but still retaining his grasp on Brennan's hand, he closed his eyes. Images of Brennan lying before him bleeding to death in the chopper filled his mind. Her words echoed in his ear, her lips repeating his name over and over.

"Booth."

His eyes flew open at the sound, realizing that that last repetition had not been his imagination. His searching gaze met the groggy and confused blue eyes of the woman lying in the bed.

"Booth," she said again, a sound of relief evident in her tone.

_

* * *

That's right, I'm gonna have to leave you there. Now it's the time where your participation is encouraged. You see that little button in the bottom left corner of your screen? Push it and leave a few words for my muse and I. We treasure each and every one and they help us to keep reading. Or at least guilt us into not forgetting about a story._


	10. Taking It Easy

Huge thanks to everyone who reviewed. As always, they were greatly appreciated. So now, here's to my making weekly updates. Let's hope I can do it ;).

Disclaimer: I borrow them to entertain myself and to get my muse to shut up. Once she does, I promise to return them unharmed.

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Ch. 10 – Taking It Easy

Booth swallowed hard, a large lump in his throat that prevented him from speaking. His eyes held Brennan's gaze, her eyes still slightly glazed from the drugs. But even in her incapacitated state, her face still demanded something from him. Some words.

Opening his mouth, the only thing that came out was, "Hey."

Despite how ridiculous the word seemed to him after it left his mouth, it seemed to satisfy her, because she closed her eyes and a small smile graced her mouth. He finally managed to swallow the basketball that had suddenly appeared the moment she had opened her eyes and now words flowed freely.

"How are you feeling?"

"Mmm, tired."

"Yeah, that's the drugs talking. Do you remember what happened?"

"I was shot. And then you were here. You are really here, I'm not hallucinating?"

"No hallucinations, it's really me."

"Good, I thought maybe I was dreaming."

"You dream about me often, there Bones?" Booth asked, the teasing tone obvious in his voice. He was suddenly giddily happy, a side effect, he knew, of the sudden relief of the stress that had been overwhelming him.

"Yes, it's only the natural result of spending so much time with you, Booth."

"Really? I usually just blame it on the fact that I haven't been laid in a while."

"Sorry?"

Booth suddenly flushed, realizing what he had just said.

"Nothing. I should go get the nurse and let her know you're awake."

One eyebrow on her face managed to twitch upwards but she let his comment go. He was probably right in going to fetch the nurse and she had a feeling she didn't really want to know what "being laid" meant. She watched Booth extract his hand from hers and walk towards the door, her mind slightly detached from everything around her. Probably a result of the painkillers, she assumed.

"Booth?"

He halted at her voice and did an immediate about-face.

"Yeah?"

"I'm glad you're here."

He smiled broadly, "So am I."

* * *

The next time she awoke, Temperance felt slightly less muddle-headed. She was also aware of a dull throbbing sensation in her shoulder and her leg. Evidently, the doctors had reduced her pain medication slightly. Shifting in an effort to be more comfortable, she was suddenly aware of the other presence in the room.

Booth sat in the only chair in her room, which was pulled impossibly close to her bed. He had folded his large physique into it, but his arms rested on her bed, pillowing his head. Flexing her fingers, she realized he was holding her hand. His breathing changed subtly and she realized he was waking up. She waited patiently until his large head turned up and his dark eyes, still heavy with sleep, swept their gaze over her face.

"Hey," he said his voice deeper with sleep.

"Hey."

"What day is it?"

"You're asking me?"

"Right, sorry."

Booth rubbed his face with one hand tiredly and then glanced at his watch. He'd been in Kosovo for two days. Had it really been only two days? He felt like he'd spent years in the hospital, just waiting. He yawned and then turned back to his partner.

"How are you doing?"

"I'm fine."

There was a moment of silence.

"Umm... Booth?"

"Yeah, Bones?"

"You're holding my hand."

Booth's eyes widened and he tried to gauge how much trouble he was in but Bones' face gave nothing away.

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"It's fine. It's... comforting."

Booth beamed and squeezed her hand lightly. She smiled back but rose a hand in warning.

"This ends the second I get out of here. You take enough liberties with my person as it is."

"Liberties with your person? What could you possibly mean?"

"Don't think I haven't noticed your hand on my back whenever we go anywhere. I've accepted it as a side effect of your being a tactile individual..."

"What do you mean textile? I don't work with fabrics."

"Tactile, as in you like to touch things to affirm their reality. And their continued presence."

Booth smiled inwardly at Brennan's very scientific dissection of his desire to make sure that she was always in arms' reach. It was easier to keep her safe that way. But if she wanted to make a rule out of it for everyone he came in contact with, he was content to let her do so. An oblivious Bones made his life easier.

"Ok, so no handholding after you get out of the hospital. Got it. Any other rules you want to lay down?"

"I don't think so. But could you get me something to drink?"

"Sure."

Booth poured a glass of water from the pitcher the nursing staff had left on a table nearby. Returning to the bed, he held the glass and the straw for Temperance while she drank deeply. Swallowing one last time, she leant back against the pillows of her narrow hospital bed. Her eyes drifted closed for a moment and then suddenly snapped open.

"My bones!"

"They're ok," Booth reassured her. "I was wondering when you'd start thinking about them again. Glad to see some things never change no matter what happens. I had Captains Granger and Sommers bring them from the camp to the hospital. The coroner has been kind enough to set them in a corner of his morgue until you're ready to work with them."

"Thank you, Booth," she said sleepily.

"No problem, Bones."

* * *

Temperance spent another day drifting in out of sleep, Booth always there to reassure her and answer her questions. Most importantly he always held her hand. The next morning when she awoke her eyes were clear and Booth could practically see her mentally plotting the quickest way for her to get out of the hospital. He was unbelievably grateful when there were several sharp raps on the door and he looked up to see the familiar faces of the two young army captains he had dismissed three days ago.

"Jamie, Luke, it's wonderful to see you," Temperance said, her smile utterly genuine.

"It's good to see you as well, Dr. Brennan," Luke said, his smile just as wide.

"We're back to Dr. Brennan already?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Brennan wrinkled her brow at being called ma'am, a gesture that made Booth chuckle internally.

"You look much better," Jamie said, his expression visibly relieved to find the anthropologist without all of the frightening medical extensions with which she had initially exited surgery. Turning to look his partner over, Booth had to agree with the younger man. Her blue-green eyes had regained the sparkle that was only a small indicator of the intelligence that lay behind them. Moreover, her complexion had recovered from its frighteningly white stage. In fact, she appeared to be almost flushed.

"I feel a great deal better, thanks, Jamie. I should be out of this bed in no time."

"I wouldn't get to hasty there, Bones," Booth cautioned, alarm bells ringing in his brain. "The doctor told me yesterday that he thought at least two weeks of bed rest would be best for you."

"Why was my doctor divulging information like that to you, Booth?"

The special agent exchanged discreet looks with the two army captains indicating that he had not yet informed his partner about his lie. Telling Temperance that she had gained an imaginary husband while she was in surgery was not something he wanted to do just yet.

Turning back to the woman in the bed, he replied quickly, "My charm smile works on others besides you, Bones."

"I'm sure," she said wryly.

The visit continued for another fifteen minutes until Temperance began to nod slightly. The two young men took that as their cue to exit but as they headed out, Luke indicated for the special agent to join them. Squeezing Brennan's hand lightly, Booth extricated his fingers gently from her grasp and joined the two men in the hallway.

"What's up?" he asked casually, ensuring that he could still see Temperance through the open doorway out of the corner of one eye.

"We brought Doctor Brennan's things with us," Jamie said, holding up a familiar bag she frequently used to house the basics of her forensic kit, as well as a rolling suitcase Booth had never seen before.

"Thanks, she'll appreciate having clothes that don't have an open back," Booth said with a smile.

"We also went back to... the mountain," Luke said, his mouth set in a grim line.

"Find anything?" Booth asked, eager to get the bastard who'd injured his partner.

"He didn't police his brass," Luke said, holding up a clear plastic bag with two empty rifle cartridges.

"Definitely not a sniper," Booth said, more to himself than anyone.

"Hmm, we also managed to find the other bullet."

Booth's eyes widened in respect. The two men must have spent at least a day searching for the single bullet that had passed through Bones' shoulder. Temperance obviously had a charm that rivalled his own.

"What kind of shape was it in?"

"See for yourself," Luke said, holding up a small specimen jar that contained the small metal projectile. Although the head was flattened, the rest of the bullet was in miraculously good shape.

"You guys are amazing."

"Thank you," Luke said. "You'll let us know if we can do any more to help her?"

"You'll be my first call."

"Good. See you around, Agent Booth."

Booth nodded and then watched the pair walk down the hall. They truly were amazing. He made a mental note that if they ever left the force he would do everything he could to make sure that they got a good job back home. Maybe something in the FBI.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a new and loud beeping coming from Temperance's room. Rushing back inside he expected to find the worst and instead only found her sitting up slightly and looking extremely peeved.

"Are you ok?"

"I was perfectly fine until that obnoxious beeping started."

Booth opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by arrival of one of the nurses with a doctor close on her heels. The doctor strode quickly to the bedside, checked the machinery that was beeping, flipping a switch that turned the alarm off, and then took Brennan's pulse. The nurse stood close by, the forensic anthropologist's chart in her hand. Releasing his patient's wrist, the doctor accepted the chart from the nurse and scribbled a few things down. Finally, he turned to the two pairs of questioning eyes trained on him.

"Doctor, what was all that about?" Temperance asked, her tone polite but obviously annoyed.

"Your temperature has gone up a few degrees."

"And?"

"Obviously, with everything that's gone on your husband hasn't informed you of some of the complications with which we are concerned. One of the foremost is infection and any change in your body temperature is a definite indicator that something may be going wrong. We're going to test your blood, attempt to determine if this is bacterial or viral and then move forward from there."

"I see. Thank you, Doctor."

The physician nodded and then exited while the nurse approached with a syringe and empty blood vial in hand. Temperance watched with interest as the needle was pushed into a vein while Booth averted his gaze. The vial filled quickly and after applying a cotton ball to the inside of Brennan's elbow, the nurse also exited.

Temperance waited until it was only the pair of them in the room again before she exploded.

"My husband!"

"Bones."

"My husband! What were you thinking?"

"Bones."

"I can't believe... no wait, I can. But husband?!"

"Bones!"

The auburn haired woman paused in her ranting and turned her blazing eyes on the man at her bedside.

"First of all, stop yelling. Someone will hear you and very quickly conclude that I am not your husband. And that would lead to me being summarily kicked out. Did you ever stop to think that it is only possible for me to sit here with you if they think I'm immediate family? That I can only find out what's going on with you medically if I pretend to be your husband? Did that brilliant mind of yours ever think about that?!"

"No," Temperance said, her anger subdued.

"Well, I did. So, I lied. Now, if you have a problem with that, that's just too damn bad because I'm not about to come clean. I need to be here. Not just for you. I need to be here for me. Do you understand?"

"I think so."

"Good, now how about you just lie there and do everything within your considerable power to get over this infection and bring your body temperature back to normal?"

"I'll try."

"That's all I'm asking."

_

* * *

Booth's ears rung and he realized that the jeep had been propelled forward a few feet by the force of the blast. He quickly jumped over the passenger's side door, army instincts kicking in. He crouched low to the ground and withdrew his pistol from the holster at his waist. Assuring himself that he was under no immediate threat of attack, and that instead they had only been the victims of a land mine, he stood up and ran to Hank's side._

"_Hank! Hank! Dammit, Hank!"_

_The man groaned but said nothing else._

_Booth felt panic welling up within him but pushed it back down. He quickly evaluated his friend's injuries. Hank, amazingly had not stepped on the mine, as his legs were still intact. Booth guessed that perhaps he had kicked a weighty rock onto the explosive, which had caused it to detonate. Unfortunately, Hank's luck had ended there. There were large gashes and cuts all over his body from the shrapnel thrown out by the bomb. But even worse was the fact that he had landed on a large, pointed rock which had penetrated the area of his lower back. Booth swore profusely at the sight of his friend lying prone. He knew Hank's wife, his kids. He could not go home to tell them that he had watched their father die._

_He was about to run to the jeep for the radio when he heard the roar of a jeep approaching. Looking up he saw that they were far closer to camp than he had initially thought. He could see the tents from where he was crouched next to Hank._

"_Hang on, old man, help's coming," he said, more to reassure himself than the groaning man next to him._

_He then hung his head and stared at his hands. They were covered in blood and now the music from the birthday party again played in his mind. Somehow he couldn't prevent the thought that Hank was being punished for the kill that Booth had taken that day. He began to rub his hands in an effort to clean them but the blood refused to come off. Rubbing with all of his strength it seemed only to cause the blood to seep into his pores, turning his hands a frightening shade of red. He was bloodstained. Permanently._

Booth woke with a start. He sat up attempting to figure out what had changed that had caused him to awake. He quickly realized it was because Brennan had let go of his hand in favour of a medical chart. Her own medical chart, he realized.

"How the hell did you get that? Please tell me you didn't get out of bed."

"I didn't get out of bed. Jamie gave it to me when I asked. You slept through his and Luke's visit. Also my phone call with Angela. You are definitely a heavy sleeper, Seeley Booth. Where are those lightning-quick sniper reflexes? I thought you slept with one eye open."

"Funny. So how are you doing?"

"Pretty well, considering. My temperature is almost back to normal, which I think means I should get to go to the morgue."

"No."

"But Booth, it's cold there. If anything, it'll help bring my fever down."

"Even I know that's not how it works. No."

"But Booth..."

"No. The bones will still be there even if you have to wait another week to see them."

"A week?" Brennan practically whined.

"That's what the doctor said would be the earliest he would allow you to leave your bed."

"Booth, as my 'husband', don't you think you could negotiate that down to say, two days?"

"I am not negotiating with your doctor."

"Booth, please?"

"Alright, if you have a normal body temperature for four days consecutively I will see what I can do about a field trip to the morgue."

"Four days?!"

"Final offer."

"I'll take it."

"Good. Now what are those?" Booth said, indicating a monstrous bouquet of flowers that had taken up residence next to the bunch that the Jeffersonian squint squad had sent.

"I think the mighty FBI investigator would recognize flowers when he saw them."

"You're just a riot, you know that, Bones? Who are they from?"

"I don't know. The nurse just put them on the table. She didn't give me the card."

"Well, let's see who your secret admirer is, huh?"

Brennan watched with a bemused smile as Booth sauntered over to the new flowers and plucked the card from amongst them. His wide grin slowly disappeared as he read it.

"Booth, what is it?" she asked, concern evident in your tone.

"Hope you've learned your lesson," Booth read. "Now take your dark-haired knight back home. Those bones aren't as precious as your life. Next time, you may not be so lucky."

_

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I'm leaving it there for now. Sorry for the lack of things happening here but Temperance needed some time to start healing. I promise more action next chapter. And more characters than just Booth and Brennan. But for now, just press that review button and let me know what you think. You know you want to. All the cool kids are doing it._


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